ever constant. You haven’t spoken of any discomfort even though I can see you feel it. You haven’t spoken at all. I walked down the garden path to the oak under which I spent my childhood summers. As I approached it, I picked up that familiar scent: my grandmother’s Alyssums in bloom. I take up my Carlsberg. Beer is the answer to all of my problems. It makes me charming, confident and fearless. Dutch courage keeps you on your toes with the ladies. All the TV shows make that abundantly clear. Your stare defeats the beer. I sit back, on the floor now. You can’t see me here. I breathe a sigh of relief.The shirt clings to me. Damp. Warm. Sticky. It’s suffocating. I keep it on – it’s Ralph Lauren. I wipe the perspiration from my brow. I have plenty of Lynx on so I probably ain’t sweating that much. I’m just nervous. Lynx Sport. It was designed for people like me. By men in labs with rats.They were scientists.The better the product they made, the more they would sell and the more money they would make.The more money they make, the more prostitutes and Diet Pepsis they’ll be able to afford; it was in their best interest that I wouldn’t sweat. I am not sweating. I can’t sweat. Does Tom Cruise sweat? No. As I got closer to the oak, something dawned on me. Slate cracks began to appear in the golden Tipperary sky. I peer back at you. Staring. I wish you would go away. I need to be beautiful for the beautiful girl downstairs. Have you never seen Top Gun? Danny DeVito doesn’t get Kelly McGillis.TomCruise does. Danny DeVito wasn’t even in the film. He doesn’t have the physique. People like that sicken me. Life is two-dimensional; you don’t need depth. You need a pretty smile and a nice chest. The Sony speaker system probably sounds great down there. Upstairs it hurts. I smell like shit. I grab the cologne. The bottle is empty. I still ‘splash’ it over my shoulders. I smell much better.
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