It didn’t make sense to him. They were $2 each or three for $5. He approached the young guy at the register. You lot are a right bunch of dickheads, he said.
Excuse me? said the young man.
You’re ripping yourselves off over there. Someone can’t add up. It should be three for $6. You’re fucking yourselves out of a dollar.
Yeah, I guess that’s the point. Save a dollar.
Up yours, he said and tipped over some pens that were on the counter. He left the store. Outside a man was sitting on a bench pouring methylated spirits into a half emptied bottle of soda water. Both hands were shaking and most of the metho was landing on his genital region. Look out. Don’t get metho on your cock, he said to the metho man.
The metho. You’re pouring it onto your dick.
Yes, mate. Metho is on your cock. In the event of a fire, and I notice you smoke, your dick will be roasted.
Fuck off, said the metho man and not wanting to start anything he left it. He crossed the road and went into the bakery. A large woman stood behind the counter. Her white apron was stained with dried dough and she was sweating. Not due to the temperature but most likely a result of her being fucking fat. It had been a while since he’d been in there. Jesus Christ, this place stinks. What have you done to it? he said.
Excuse me? said the woman.
It stinks. You drop your guts, sweetheart?
How dare you!
I’ll have a meat pie, thanks darlin’, he said.
We don’t have those.
We don’t sell meat products anymore. We’re vegan, she said.
Well, that’s fuckin’ gay, he said and left the shop. The metho man was still pouring metho into his bottle of soda water across the street. He waved at him. The metho man pulled the middle finger. Annoyed, he went into the grocery store next to the bakery. He bought four bread rolls and some ham and a box of matches. He asked the girl behind the counter for her number but she told him to leave her alone. He called her a frigid whore and left. Someone outside, having overheard the exchange, told him that the concept of a frigid whore is impossible because by nature whores are promiscuous. What are you? Some sort of science guy? he said.
No, just telling it how it is, said the man.
Well, I’ll show you how it is, he said and punched the man in the stomach. He doubled over, gasping for breath. This is my town, science guy, he said and walked back across the street to metho man. Wanna bread roll? he said.
Come on. It’ll make that metho sit better, he said.
What do you want? said metho man.
To watch you drink that shit.
Well, I’m trying, but you keep bothering me.
Well, my apologies, he said and stepped away. He watched from a distance as metho man continued to spill metho all over his genital region. You’re going to regret that, he said.
FUCK OFF! said metho man and stood up. In a rage he threw the bottle of soda water at a parked car and the bottle of metho at a toddler walking past with its mother. “ALL I’VE BEEN TRYING TO DO IS HAVE A DRINK AND FUCKIN’ GUYS LIKE YOU KEEP TALKING TO ME, said metho man.
Calm down, he said.
NOW YOU OWE ME A BOTTLE OF METHO AND SODA WATER, said metho man.
No way. You can have a bread roll though.
NOOOOOOOOO!!!, yelled metho man. He then threw himself on the ground and started thrashing around like a dolphin caught in a shark net. People nearby started calling the police and an ambulance. He just stood there watching metho man convulse. Eventually he ran out of steam. Metho man lay on the concrete outside the store, motionless except for the heavy breathing that was a result of his recent exertion. You alright there? he said to him but metho man said nothing. He interpreted this as a good opportunity to give him an offering. He attempted to hand a bread roll to metho man but he was repeatedly told to fuck off. He then threw the bread roll at his head so hard that it bounced off it and rolled onto the street. It was then run over by a car and flattened into the bitumen. You ungrateful junkie, he said and approached metho man again. He was still relatively motionless except for the breathing, so he lit a match and dropped it on his cock. Only he and metho man knew about the flames. He knew because he had seen the match hit its target. Metho man knew because because his cock was in the process of incineration via invisible fire. Ambulance sirens were approaching so he started walking home.
The sun beat down on him on the way home but he took comfort in the fact that he was no where near as hot as metho man’s groin area. He was disappointed that he didn’t recognise him though. They had spent their kindergarten years together. He never forgot a face. He rounded the corner on the final stretch home. He felt the ham in the bag he was carrying and it was no longer cold. He wondered whether he should throw it out. A car of young people drove past and mooned him. He decided to keep the ham. He was hoping the woman from the Anglers Arms wasn’t still at home. He wanted to call her a girl but too many years had passed for her to be called that. She was the first woman he’d had sex with since his wife had left three days prior and since he’d stopped fucking the woman from across the road. Her husband knew about that. It was nearly lunch and he hoped the house was going to be empty when he opened that front door. He planned to spend the rest of the sitting around in the nude, alone.