Gordon's Breakfast - 2
"Hey, Suze, what's up?"
"Well you for one. I just called you at home. No answer. Gord that's a little unheard of for you, isn't it, up and out of the house all before eight o'clock?"
"Oh just out getting a newspaper."
"Just popped out did you?"
I can't help laughing at this even though I feel it is somehow beneath me to laugh at such a double entendre.
"That's right," I say still smiling, "Just popped out."
"Is that how it happened for you last night? Just popped out?"
"Hey who are you today queen of smut?"
"More like queen of tut-tut."
She keeps me laughing with and as I walk along having to move the phone away from my mouth to stop my laughing cough blowing straight down the handset and into Susan's ear on the other end of the line.
"Isn't too early for double entendres? I'm thinking there should be like a morning watershed banning such smutty talk. Besides, I have a resolution. I'm a little late I know, but I figure if I get it in now I can go forward into the rest of the year with it, better late than never right?"
"It's January 29 Gord which is far too late to resolve not to sleep with people I work with."
"Are you sure? I was counting on a month's grace."
"There's no grace Gord, which is handy for you. I take it you're outside my building?"
"Funny you should say that. I was hoping you would offer me coffee and advice as I profusely apologised and owned up to the glaring error of my ways."
"Oh really, I was hoping we could skip that ritual this morning. Besides, I'm running late, I'll bring you some coffee down, you can apologise as you walk me to the tube station. I think you owe me some details anyway."
"Are you sure? Isn't it too early for cross-examination time?"
"Dream on Gord."
With that Susan hangs up. Susan is always hanging up on me. It's like she worships at the alter of the last word and she has been granted the power to hang up on people with impunity whether it is because she is in a huffy mood or merely wants to make it clear that she has made up her mind and things are going to be just so.
As Susan comes out of her mansion block building she is as good as her word. Dressed in a pair of perfectly beaten and faded Levis, a white blouse and fitted jacket, her shoulder length dark brown hair is tied back, and she is holding a plastic cup with a lid on it, which she duly hands over to me.
"So how sorry are you exactly? As a guideline, I think you should be very sorry."
"On a scale of one to ten, a lot and I just want to say in my defence that I have no idea how it happened. Honestly."
"Well let's recap. You drank lots of champagne and stuck your tongue in her mouth to which she responded to by saying why don't you come back to my place."
That's another thing about Susan. She has an uncannily ability to cut to the chase. I can't help laughing at this.
"Suze, that's just plain spooky. Were you watching?"
"Funny, anyway I'm only teasing you. Charlotte said she was in need of a quick shag and she thought you were cute and needy."
Needy? I'm shocked at this. A quick shag? Who talks like that? Oh wait, I think I know the answer to this one.
"Needy? I'm not needy. I'm the reverse I'm...I'm needless."
"Yeah...or something, but definitely not needy."
"Sorry Gord, but you are so needy. You are in need of a girlfriend guy. Oh I've come up with a new acronym, NAGG, need a girlfriend guy."
Susan claps her hands together at this under the impression that it is in fact extraordinarily funny and possibly the best joke she ever came up with.
"Nag? How appropriate, which reminds me why I don't need a girlfriend."
"Funny boy, anyway did she or did she not kick you out really early."
"And you knew that how exactly?"
"I just have to look at you and the fact that it's really terribly early. People linger more if they're not kicked out first thing."
"They linger? That's good to know. There was definitely no lingering."
Susan touches a finger to her lips.
"Oh how sad, you've entered the linger free part of your life."
Susan smiles obliquely.
"Anyway, I've loved you and now must leave you. Maybe at the weekend?"
Susan makes that mwah mwah sound as she kisses me on both cheeks, but doesn't actually make contact.
"Hey, what's with the mwah mwahing?"
"Oh didn't I say? I'm going to a fashion party tonight that Mademoiselle is going to be sponsoring it's going to be chocker full of models. I'm just practicing. Mwahing is terribly important to models it makes up at least half of their vocabulary. If you talk mwah you're almost there to being their lifelong friend. I just want to ensure that I have plenty to say."
Susan has me in stitches, "Did you say models? I think you might want to take me with you. I'm fluent in mwah and have always wanted to...you know meet more models."
"No Gord, you can't come. You'll get a little and then a lot drunk and convince yourself that for some bizarre reason you will be able to successfully chat one up. And whilst they are generally guaranteed to be blond and not awfully clever, they still won't sleep with you."
"Really? Are you sure? I mean shouldn't we put that theory to the test. I mean I like champagne, so we'll have something in common."
"I'm quite positive and besides someone on the magazine will see and there'll be gossip. Besides you're too poor, you don't take lots of drugs, don't have a large house, nice car and you don't belong to any private members clubs."
Susan's right, damn what can I say, I knew that one day I would suffer in later life for failing to take large quantities of drugs.
"Held back again by my overly sensible and clean living approach to life."
"Gord you don't have a clean living approach."
"Damn you're right again. I never knew I failed on so many levels. Did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have you?"
"Never, but Gord that's okay I've always seen myself as the vastly under appreciated but indispensable type. Look I have to go. I need to hit to the gym, starve myself, pick up my little black dress from the dry cleaners and have a facial all in the vague hope that I will look thin enough by this evening to not stand out too much. How do you rate my chances?"
"As always Suze, highly. And remember if you think you might suddenly change your mind and decide what your good friend Gordon actually needs is to meet some models..."
Susan places her index finger on her lips as if to give the indication that she is actually giving my suggestion serious consideration. And really I would be full of hope if I hadn't seen her do this a million times before.
"Oh let me think long and hard about that one. Thinking over. Dream on Gord. Speak later."
I watch Susan cross the road and head to Arsenal tube station as I head off down the street again towards home, which is just a few minutes away from Susan's place. I have a mountain of work to finish including my article on 'Men and yoga'.