PROBABLY NOTHING

“I saw this film a couple of days ago” They looked at each other. “It was about these two guys. This relationship between these two guys. At least, that’s what I thought it was about. It was great. I loved it. I mean…” he sucked his teeth. “The film? No. I didn’t like it. You know me. I like a happy ending. But…” Pepe caste around for inspiration. “It was love. You know what I mean? Man love.” A smile wandered across is face, whistful like he could do with some of that right now. “I’m not talking about your faggoty thing going on here. That’s the trouble with you guys. You let women destroy you. You haven’t got the balls to take them head on. You think you can run away to Gayville. But you can’t Betsy.” Bert did not like being called Betsy. But that was a battle he had lost long ago. “It’s the most normal thing in the world to fuck. Everybody knows that. You take what’s available. You live on a farm you fuck a pig. If you have to. If you want to, that is. If that’s what’s available and it does it for you. You live in the big city of course you get to fuck anything that moves. It’s normal. That’s right for a guy. But you and you gays. What the fuck is wrong with you? Setting up home like two little love birds so you can get to fight and scratch like a couple of bitches on heat. Jeese. It’s disgusting.” Bert looked at him, impassive. He was getting good at impassive.

This arsehole was telling him. Telling him what? Fuck knows! Something or other. “You see. You put a load of women together in a situation. Leave it long enough and it’s an emotional quagmire. Men. If they’re not bristling up to one another like a couple of ballet dancers then they’re just rubbing along. Getting laid when they can and coming home for a beer.” Bert pouted. “Sure.” Said Pepe, taking the point. “It can’t go on forever. But why is that?” Bert kept eye contact. If he didn’t, Pepe was sure to get stormy. “Because we get old and ugly. That’s why. Nobody wants to fuck us no more. So we have to go for second best. Uh.” Pepe grunted and as an afterthought. “And the kid thing. But you gay guys. Fuck that. You can do what you like. Get a decent job. Hire in rent. Make some friends. Whatever. But no. Bill and Ben have to set up home like a couple of stupid faggots. Get a poofs pooch or two. Who’s game are you playing anyhow?” Pepe sighed. Bert wondered if lecture was over or if chapter two was coming. There was just the background noise of the street outside to fill in. The sound of a taxi. Someone laughing. What were they laughing at?

Bert suddenly remembered that there was a beer in the fridge and life picked up a little. He started to smile. “What?” Said Pepe. Bert niffed up a bit of loose snott. “We’re not like that. We don’t ‘rub along’. You piss me off on a regular basis.” For a second Bert wondered if Pepe looked genuinely hurt. “Yeah” Said Pepe “But we don’t love each other.” Now it was Bert’s turn to feel a little pain and he wondered at it. Did that mean something or was it just a spot of hurt pride? Probably nothing.