| User: | ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} thatjazz (posted by ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bobbyhushhush) |
| Date: | 2008-04-09 21:01 |
| Subject: | [Closed to John, phone call] |
| Security: | Public |
| Tags: | bobby, club closed, elsewhere, john |
Bobby sits, in the dark, feeling slightly woozy. He thinks he was at an apartment somewhere downtown, but can't remember how he got from there to here. Although the blond in the bed might have some recollection. Somehow he doesn't want to wake her up, as he has a strong memory of a very annoying nasal whine issuing from her mouth. Just another dumb chippy he'll have to get rid of sometime later. And of course he's wide awake, even if certain parts of his body feel half-asleep. Must be the snow. Or that stuff they were smoking. Or the gin, gin always makes him unable to get some shut-eye.
You know what will make him feel better? Talking to a pal. That's always swell. A compadre, a fellow gossip, a lover of wine, women and song.
Well, wine and song at least.
It takes him a little while to find the phone under the bed, how did it get there? and Bobby rubs his eye with two fingers, stretching his face in a yawn and then shaking it abruptly to help him focus on the numbers. Round and round his fingers go, and his eyes follow them before remembering he's not alone, and so with effort, he picks himself up off the floor and struggles over to the window sill, his shirt undone and trousers loosely buttoned, rooting about for a deck he knows he has in his pockets and lighting up, blowing smoke out the window.
"So ya know, I was thinkin'," he starts as soon as he hears John's slightly irritated voice on the line, "you an' me, we could make a killing selling your memoirs. All those people, the dames, the daisies, all under a nom de plume, of course, we couldn't draw attention to you that much, but all the intimacies, the whispers in the dark, the looks, the touches. Hey, and if you wanted we could make some of it up, heck, I do for god's sake, some of the time, and I'm sure you must do otherwise you're the busiest boy in town." He pauses for a tiny moment. "Are you busy now, John? Cos if you are, I can ring back, later, maybe, or come in this evening, I can do that if you'd rather, but you know, I'm sat here thinking about the fact I can't even remember how we met the first time apart from your smile and the way you flipped me a quarter for a drink, that was impressive, I gotta tell ya."
productive