Oh What A Glorious Wednesday Night,
By Matty D. Baumann
The sun rises over North Melbourne and I finish my Bundy on the rocks, because I ran out of coke about two hours ago. I take one last cigarette for the road, from the packet me and my mate Steve bought after we got kicked out of the Old Bar in Fitzroy. Kicked out due to false allegations of selling dexies and speed. Allegations that are completely wrong might I add. We were sharing them, sharing them with every Tom, Dick and Sally we wanted too. Why? Because La dolce vita baby because its Wednesday night and I don’t work till 12:00 tomorrow.
So we got kicked out and we took the party back to Steve’s place in North Melbourne, Tom, Dick and Sally joined us with a few other friends. There was Jessie the barrister, close friend of mine down here from Queensland. He had a flight early this morning and left North Melbourne shortly after our arrival there. Stevi not to be mistaken for Steve as Stevi is a musician with a heart of gold, but a pension for getting rowdy, rude and nude after a few Tequila shots and Terrance don’t know to much about him but he seemed nice. He gave me some weed in exchange for dexies. So I like him.
Everyone had a blast but slowly they all got Ubers home, Stevi ran down Errol street in her starkers at 4 O’clock in the morning. Mad woman ran all the way back to her place in West Melbourne. It was me and Steve, Steve and my self have a pension for vice when the clock runs past two in the morning. Some how it always happens we get 40 pack of Winnie blues and Sportsbet magically appears on the our phone screens, betting on some random Qatar horse races, pretending we’ve been training horses since we were 10. We don’t win of course but god its fun, so fucking fun. So fun we forget that the times past by that the suns been up for 2 hours its 7 o’clock in the morning. I spent all my money on horses, cigarettes, speed, weed, beer, rum, coke, Ubers and a bet to Stevi she wouldn’t run home in her starkers.
So what now? All I know is that with my last cigarette I’m going to smoke and walk down to Victoria street and get on the tram down to the city and then another tram down to my humble abode in St Kilda. I’m going to look cross eyed and wonky at all the workers and school kids trying to get to there regular 9 to 5’s and I’m going to stare out into the streets as the council workers clean the streets from all the broke bottles and spew, people like me would have made that night. I wont be sorry for it fuck ya, not one bit I’m glad I here on a Wednesday morning. Reminding you miserable crumpets what life could be like if you let your hair down every now and then. So see you next week same time, same place. Can’t wait to see you and I’ll bring some more Rum to share with the accountant who has to stand next to me on the tram. Smelling of cigarettes and rum, I think he deserves to have some for his patience standing next to me.
I get home, I run to the shower, I lie down in bed, I text the boss saying I can’t come in at midday I’m crook as a dog. He texts back furious, I say I’ve been chundering since 7 o’clock. He says fine and wishes me well. I fall to sleep and all I do is sleep. Because last night left no room for dreaming at, all I need is more nights like Wednesday night. Instead of the harsh reality the morning sunlight brings. Because the harsh reality is I’ll be eating white bread, mi goring and porridge for the next week till pay day comes around again. Luckily pay days on Tuesday so I’ll be all cashed up and ready to do it all again come next Wednesday night, shit yeah.