Desperate Measures

Edinburgh, Mid Winter

I had just finished my shift at Casey Jones and was fired. With some 7-up I sluiced down my third Mighty Casey burger of the day and looked over the letter that Supervisor Craig had presented to me. It was signed by Valerie. She was our boss, and very conveniently was not at work today. It said that my performance had not been satisfactory, which was very true and had been true for my almost 6 months there. Our contact has us on a 6-month trial period, and after that we qualify for a pay rise, pension scheme, annual holidays etc. Craig was the only one who had made it that far, wanting to stay at this burger bar forever, and accepting any shit they gave him. It was nice to see his genuine upsettedness and I sucked in my anger and walked out of the food court, over the train tracks, and into the grey day.

I walked much slower than usual, up through the closes that separate the crowds of dark buildings that have always been there. It was good to have this sudden freedom. But I was very sad. I had now been reduced to one life, the very insular and incestuous hostel. No other purpose outside of it's walls. I sat in the corner of the Scotsman and drank a slow ale. Things could be a lot worse. At least I can now concentrate on women, on backpacker chicks. This weeks fancy was an Australian nurse called Maxine. She had no apparent psychological disorders. She liked to have fun. And she was drop-dead gorgeous. Back home I took a long shower, washing off all the grease from work. I put on my cleanest black clothes, set my little travel alarm for 9 and took a long nap in the empty dorm. Like never before, I was preparing myself, gonna get me a girl. No way will I pass out in female company tonight.

Stu's 21st Birthday Bash. His parents had flown over from Australia for it. He was surrounded by international friends and acquaintances. Night porters are automatically popular where we live, and I was fortunate to be his best friend. We were at Pressie Hall. Everybody drank excessively. I had 2 Special Brews on the way, and 4 pints there. And that was just about right. I circulated, smiled, entertained the olds (both off their faces, good to see), danced a bit, moved around the pub in a muscular way, striding about. I kept appearing next to Max, to give her some happy comment, or just smile, and then circulate and drink more. I was deliberately charming her, playing myself the way an actor might, and completely superficial. Near closing, I saw a local guy getting too close to her, and she was looking uncomfortable. Instead of just sadly watching (and drinking faster), I bounced over to them, and Max opened up her arms as we overacted being apart for so terribly long. I gave her a firm hug, and she looked up into my eyes, as if she were about to tell me something, but was suddenly too distracted by my overwhelming presence. I seized the moment and stuck my tongue down her throat. She accepted it just long enough, then pushed me away, spilling her beer, and still smiling, laughing.

"You put your tongue in!", she cried out, so that everyone heard. But she was still smiling. I winked at her, then returned to my conversation with Stu's Dad, and he nudged me, and I felt so full of it, so alive and invincible. The bar closed, people left, the girls were sort of waiting for me and Stu. We finished our beers slowly, testing the keenness of Max and Julie, and then with our enthusiasm contained we took them to Shady Ladies.

Shadies is a legendary haunt for the gothic heroin types. All the walls are painted black and there are no tables or chairs. Each floor is a maze on it's own. Somehow I got lost after taking a leak, but my balls remained in a tight focus. I concentrated so hard on finding the others, I completely forgot about more drinking, or maybe my ego had replaced the need, for I was still that one foot taller than normal. Found Max at 2, dancing by herself. I just leant against a wall, slid down to the floor, watched her. Truly beautiful, one of the finest looking women that I've ever met. She was simply dressed, black jeans and black t-shirt, fitting in with the goths and grungeheads, yet was glamourous too. Bright red lipstick, delicate eye make-up. She saw me, and beckoned me to come dance with her. I just smiled. I found a half-finished beer on the floor, and absent-mindedly sucked on it. She continued dancing, more freely, delighting in her exhibition, dancing for me. I was loving myself as well, maybe we were glowing, standing out as the perfect couple. A couple of perfect people. Several songs later, she slid down beside me, pulled the beer from my lips, and kissed me tenderly. She was keen to move on. So I took my time, put my arm around her, and finished sipping my beer. Actually it was someone else's, this guy who started to approach me. I might be trying extraordinarily hard to be a man this night, but I won't fight, uh-ah. That's how I thought, but then I curled up my face like I was about to snarl and the guy chickened out. After that extra bit of being masterful, I stood up, and we left. Got pizza (of course) and went home. Stu was in reception, sharing a pizza with a Danish girl who was giving herself to him as a birthday present, something pre-arranged, he whispered to me. Stu's room not available, I took Max to the downstairs couch, a stop-over on the way to the music room in the basement.

We fooled around, pashed lightly, then deeply, then lightly. I was sobering up, but not at all nervous or shy. I had a pack of 3 condoms in my pocket, and I was starting to grope in meaningful places, just waiting for her to smile in a certain way, and let me lead her downstairs. The scene was perfect, a fitting tribute to my years of gallant attempts and unfair failures.

Max pulled her face from mine, just enough for her to speak.

"Have one of these" she said, and she popped a pill in my mouth, and I swallowed. Probably ecstasy, this is certainly going to be a special night. I looked at her face, which was still so close to mine. Beautiful, but not in a sophisticated way, and not with big features, just a delicate suburban angel. Long hair washed with precision, hanging unobtrusively, shadowing and framing her cheeks and eyes. And that's where my memory ends.
 
 

Sunday.

I was awoken, on the couch, at 9:30am. The fire alarm had gone off. High winds had made the burnt out shell of the Scandic Crown Hotel very dangerous. Because it towered over our hostel we were evacuated once again. I didn't have time to remove, or even notice the lipstick smears all over my face. Another cold Sunday evacuation. We were told to amuse ourselves for the day, and accommodation would be found. I found Skid and Gen in a lost state, and led them to Florentino's. The three of us just read the Sunday papers, and drank coffee. Mostly I just sat and unravelled the night before. Max was one of the many backpacking nurses, who easily get well-paid work in the UK. And she probably fed me a sleeping pill. I decided that she was a truly special young woman, what a masterful, what a msful stroke. If she didn't tell anyone else, my manhood might retain today's extra aura....

Skid and I doubled our understanding of each other by having an all too rare, normal social sober chat. I was losing myself in her, when Gen confronted me about Shane's affairs. She knew about all the women, and that I had been his drinking buddy alibi all those times. Actually she was just fishing, but I can't lie too well, so I told her everything, in gory detail. Even about the time when Shane couldn't get it up, when he realised that Gen was the only one he could ever love, and left a gorgeous tart spread-eagled naked on a bed, and ran off to be with Gen. I defended Shane the whole way, convincing Gen that she should meet up with him in Australia, as planned. They were a great couple.

No, she just had hysterics, swore never to see him again, called me names, and disappeared to London. Skid was also unimpressed, and suggested that I should pretending to be such a new-age guy because all guys were deep down the same. She left me there with the depressing newspapers.

I went back to the hostel, where the receptionists had set up a desk outside the front door, on a ridge of dark snow. The pages of the guest book flapped about, and manager Mark was grimacing and trying to deal with all the people. I just wanted to check on where I was going to stay. I was hoping to get the same B&B as Max. And she was there too, also enquiring.

"Howzit", I said.

"Oh I'm alright", she sighed, "but they still haven't sorted anything out yet. I don't know what to do"

"We could go for a walk", I smiled and she smiled and said yes.

Only now did I get to know her, with no distractions, and less sexual motive, and sober. Wish I wasn't sober, for it suddenly turned terribly cold with sleet, rain and high winds. The snow had turned into a deep brown slush, and our feet got soaked. The weather stung our faces. But I was determined to keep walking, I can talk better that way, as if my legs are a dynamo for my brain. I could also tell that suggesting an early afternoon beer would not go down well. Bbaarrrpp. Wrong. She suggested it, just as the rain became torrential, and we ran across the street with smiles on our faces like newlyweds, and down to a basement bar, with a large open fire. After a couple of pints I began to feel waves of warm horniness, and wished that somehow she didn't have to go to work. Still, we shared a wee cuddle, and then a juicy kiss goodbye. Man was I on top of things.

I returned home to find that the reception desk was sensibly back inside the building. Anita was on the doorstep, sobbing in the rain. It had become too much for her; losing her Scandic job and today fired from her new job, and now she comes home to find a fresh evacuation, and she is completely broke. I promise to look after her, whatever happens, although I wasn't really in a position to. We taxied to Argyll Place with Stu, where a lot of the hostel staff were staying, crammed into the B&B's double rooms. Stu shared with his parents, and I was with Anita, Francesca, and Cindy. They shared the bed, and I had the couch. After watching some tv, we all went to the Last Drop pub, designated hangout for the seperated long-termers, scattered all over Edinburgh in various guesthouses. Catriona was back from Skye. She kept her distance when she noticed Stu and the guys poking me, and asking where Max was. I didn't know, but I was getting drunk and looking forward to more time with her. Catriona left early to crash at Darren's flat, and he had been sober for the 12 days since Hogmanay, so I shook his hand. As the night wore on and the drinking crowd grew, I found a wee Italian girl squashed up against me, Ella.

"You have so many friends here, Hack, you know, if things go wrong, it's still okay"

"So how are you doing?"

"It's not so far to home for me. I think I go tomorrow"

She seemed to like me, maybe the lipstick still on my face was beneficial. She was in a guesthouse near mine, so we staggered off into the night, leaning on each other. I tried to impress upon her what a wonderful guy I was, but just ended up boasting about how many women fancied me, and we laughed at how pathetic I was. She still might've slept with me, except I had mentioned sharing a room with 3 special ladies, each beautiful and sexy.

Found the couch, the girls weren't back, and fell into dreams. Maybe they would return soon, high on alcohol, and gang-seduce me. Or maybe they were too fearful of my powers over women, and had chosen to sleep somewhere safer. It's all just a fun crazy game and nothing actually matters...zzzzzzz....