psychic also said something about my one true love being like, an old soul in universal soul terms so I’ve been thinking that... maybe it means that I’m trading up from my dark-eyed, light-haired ex-boyfriend who quite frankly, wasn’t an old soul, he was an arse-ole. I reckon I might be finding a new job and a new man to boot! Yay for Kylie!”
“Well that’s good for you. So, what’s the story with your current buck?” Sophia asked seriously.
“It’s former, not current sweet cheeks. We are no longer unhappy together.”
“OMG, What happened?” asked Sophia. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t ready to chat about it until now. It happened like, a couple of weeks ago. He told me I was getting fat and when I said, spell fat is it like, cool fat like P-H-A-T? And he said, nup.”
“He didn’t!”
“He did. And it wasn’t just that. But I’m okay. I don’t think we were meant to be together anyway. We weren’t on the same wavelength, you know. I don’t want much but I’m tired of him telling me I’m not funny and I’m not this, and I should be that. And he never went to any effort for me. I probably shouldn’t compare it to other people’s relationships but I think I have enough bad experiences from it to know that it shouldn’t be this hard, you know? So we decided to go our separate ways, especially after he told me I was fat and I told him to buck off!”
“Yeah I know what you mean. I know him really well and have always thought he should treat you better. You need to do what is best for you because you deserve to be happy and for a while there you didn’t sound like you were whenever I saw you with him.”
“True dat. Me thinks I need to shake my little life up a bit. Make a few changes, you know, starting with me changing my job, then maybe my undies a little more frequently...you know, baby steps!”
“Grosse! You better be kidding!”
“Of course I’m kidding! No I’m not, you know I’m serious. No really, I’m joking. No, no I’m not. I’m serious. The ones I have on are hitting the 72 hour mark, no I’m kidding really I am.” Kylie looked down and laughed at her feet. She amused herself no end. “What about you sweet cheeks? What brings you this far from home? An unsociable bastage who never liked to commit to taking me anywhere once told me that cows don’t have weekends...since this is true, who’s taking care of business?”
“My brother is home at the moment so he is looking after the place. I’m off to Brisbane tomorrow for a week of shopping.”
“Oh lardy dar! It’s good to be you baby! Hey, would you like a lift to the hairy-port tomorrow? I don’t have much of a life and I’m free all day. Actually I’m free most nights! Just don’t tell everybody!”
“Actually, that would be great because I don’t have a way of getting there yet. Oh I mean I could get a taxi.”
“No way baby, I’ll give you a lift. Where are you staying?”
“At the Burke & Wills, Room 27.”
“Okay. Hey are you free tonight? I’m working for a couple of hours at the Irish Club and then meeting a few friends afterwards, did you want to join us?”
“Actually, I’m having dinner there tonight, how about we meet up afterwards?”
“Sounds excellent Soph.”
“But you can’t have too big of a night, you have to drive me to the airport at 2 pm tomorrow.”
“Yeah no worries, I’ll be good, I’ll meet you in the Blarney Bar at 10.15 pm tonight?”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
“Bye Soph,” said Kylie, waving like the Queen but with her mouth wide open and turning her head left and right like one of those clowns you put ping pong balls into at side show alley. Sophia giggled and shook her head as she walked away.
Kylie also picked up a copy of the Saturday edition of the Townsville Bulletin which was a good source of positions vacant for the surrounding area, before heading to the counter to pay for the papers then made her way back to her car.
All the way home she sang to Shania Twain’s Greatest Hits. On getting out of the car, she was greeted by the ageing but young at heart, ten-foot tall and bullet proof, family dog. Well, he thought he was ten-foot tall and bullet proof. In actual size, he was one foot tall and like a black terrier but bigger than a Scottish Terrier. He had sharp, pointy claws and liked to jump on people who were not fans of dogs. Yes, he liked to jump on Kylie. He wasn’t a mean dog, he was just a dog. And Kylie preferred the company of soft-haired animals that were as independent as she was. She liked cats. Kylie liked cats so much she treated them like humans. In the way that humans wear clothes and get married, so did her cats. So what if they scratched their way out of most of the matching ensembles she carefully selected and dressed them in. But after finding items of cat clothing strewn up and down the street, she got smart with her selections. She quickly discovered all-in-one, baby jim jams. Sewn in feet, sewn in hands, press button closures, you are sew not getting out of that pussycat! Ha! She made sure they were comfortable though, by cutting a little hole in the back for their tail to pop out of. They looked so adorable, even though they would always seem to be hissing at her and making mournful ‘get meeowt of this outfit’ sounds. They would wriggle about like they didn’t want to be there but once their makeover was complete and photos had been taken, you should have seen how happy they were to bolt out of the house. Battlecat and Motor Min would race away, and would be quickly out of Kylie’s sight but she would hear the laughs from the neighbourhood kids who happened to spy either of the fashionable felines as they pranced up the road. They remain the best dressed cats ever to have lived in her street.
“Down damn darlin’ doooog dat Nigel,” Kylie’s dad yelled out from the backyard as he saw Kylie being greeted by their barking and excited pet.
“What are you up to A Baby?” her dad yelled out.
“I just got my cards read Rar-gee. And I bought a couple of papers.”
“Did that there Tar-rot (pronounced Tar-rot and rhyming with Carrot) card reader say you were going to get black ink on your fingers today?” he asked, laughing at his own humour.
“Noooo. She said I was about to start a new chapter.”
“Well then A Baby, you shoulda left the papers and instead, bought a book!”
“Yeah yeah.” He was pretty witty with words old Rogie. Kylie had started calling him by his name after she turned twenty-one. It was more light hearted and playful than calling him Dad. Besides, every time she used to say, “Daaaad?” he would answer with, “How much is it going to cost me A Baby?” In her eyes, she was starting a new habit that didn’t automatically necessitate pecuniary obligations.
Kylie walked down the side of the house and out to the back yard where her father was hosing and sat on a chair with the papers.
He watched her sit down and get comfortable then bellowed, “Get me a beer A Baby.”
“To get you a beer will cost you a beer Rar-gee.”
“Sure A Baby,” he laughed, knowing his son and Kylie’s oldest brother had only stocked up the beer fridge last week so they were both
