Even
without the make-up her eyes could now pass for simply tired, their colouring a
direct result from only lack of sleep. Still, ache1 is with reason passing
by the reception desk at some remove, when the receptionist calls across the
otherwise empty lobby.
cog:
Hey HEY! How’s that pornography channel working out for you?
ache1
(visibly surprised): Excuse me, are you even allowed to ask me that? Isn’t that
cog
(with a shrug): Oh come on
and
then conspiratorially
cog:
You know there are only two rooms which have as much access to that? Yours is
one of them, the other one’s the one the manager uses when he stays over.
ache1:
That I did not need to know. He seems
like such a nice guy.
prompting
the receptionist to raise an eyebrow.
ache1
(smiling): Okay. Point taken.
She
sets her E.T. doll up on the reception desk.
cog:
You would not believe the number, we have a, you’ve probably noticed, right, we
have a number of conferences on the go at any one time, and these guys, and it
is always the guys, the minute they
get a whiff of channel 16
ache1
(laughing): Chanel Numero Seize!
cog
(laughing): So they see that often in the conference rooms there’ll be a vcr,
and every conference, round that table there must be at least half a dozen, if
not more, of these delegates all thinking the exact same thing. They’ve already
been in their room, they’ve seen the channel 16 card, and they’ve probably
joked with the other delegates about that, but then they, honestly, not, this
is not... They get the idea that they’re going to record some of that and take
it home like some cheap, sleazy souvenir.
She
pauses to allow one of the porters to pass by and on out of earshot.
cog:
But the thing of it is this, every single one of these guys, they think they’re
the first, that that that, they think they’re the very first person to whom
this idea might have ever occurred, and part of me wants to burst that little
bubble for them, you know, “Sir, are you aware you’re the fourth delegate
already this afternoon who wants to record our pornography channel?”
ache1:
And do they ever get their wish?
cog
(looking beyond ache1 to determine the reception area is still
empty): Do they fuck! Not on my watch, sister. I think some of the nightporters
might be a little less... discerning,
if that’s the word I’m after. I know for fact that money has changed hands before, if you can believe that.
Later
ache1 will relate this to Brother Skunk in the hotel’s main
restaurant where, neither having any appetite for the full meal they have both chosen
only desserts, two of which sit before each of them, and from which they pick
indiscriminately.
Skunk:
We’ve had exactly the same thing in the bookshop.
ache1:
Ooh, you have a porno channel?
Skunk
(in deadpan monotone): Ha... ha. That’s funny. Seriously. That is funny.
Pause.
Skunk:
No. But the students have a thing called an open book exam, where you can take
in the book, if it’s, for poetry and literature and whatever, but apparently
every time one of these exams is scheduled, people come in asking, they don’t
want to actually buy the book, they
just want to... rent it for the duration of the exam.
adopting
voice
Skunk:
“If this isn’t the right book can I bring it back later for a refund?” “D’you
mean after the exam this morning?” “Huh?”
ache1:
God but isn’t there something so awful about that? Being so completely transparent when you ah, when your deception is so
transparent and yet you really believe no-one can see what you’re actually up to.
She
tips the content of one bowl into another and stirs them together with some
abandon.
Skunk:
It’s funny, the whole vcr thing. When I was at college we went on a fie-,
actually I think it was the best part of a week, and we stayed at this sort of
artists’ retreat, a big posh house in the middle of nowhere. It had a studio,
and darkrooms, all sorts, and there was a room where you could go of an evening
to watch a video, these were all, ehm, fil-, serious films, films that would appeal to the creative mind. One of
interrupted
by sudden dry coughs
Skunk:
one of which was “Badlands”. Have you seen that?
ache1:
What did you say, “Badlands”?
Skunk:
“Badlands”, yeah. It’s a film by this
reclusive guy called Terry Malick, made in the 70s, I think, or, anyway, it’s a
beautiful thing, really beautifully photographed, and I’d already seen it
before I went on this trip, but, when I saw it again on the trip I was
completely mesmerised. I think they maybe screened it a couple of times, and I
was at both of them. Then, because I was completely hooked on this thing, it
was like drugs or something, and so one night when I knew they, I mean, they
weren’t going to show it again, but I was so keen to see it that I borrowed the
tv and the vcr, took ‘em back to the room I was sharing, and got it started up,
ache1
(laughing): A story that does not end well, this I can guess.
Skunk
(laughing): Nah nah, well, I didn’t get that far into it when there was an
almighty ruckus at the door, people banging and shouting. It wasn’t like I’d
actually stolen these things, I’d just borrowed them, but the way, they were
acting like I’d committed some sort of atrocity.
I don’t even think it was an actual proper video, come to think of it, just
something someone had recorded from off the tv.
He
forks the last of the coconut cheesecake into his mouth, and speaks around its
eating,
Skunk:
We’ll need to get that out and watch it.
ache1:
And that’s your favourite movie?
Skunk
(shrugs): Hm, maybe, yes, at any given moment. And yours is “E.T.”, right? Either
that or “Debbie Does Dallas”
laughs
ache1:
Actually I prefer the sequel, “Dallas Does Debbie”.
laughing
too as Brother Skunk visibly tries to determine whether she is joking.
He
places one empty dish inside the other, before the dropping in of both their spoons
creates just that degree too much noise.
Skunk
(affecting accent, and pushing his fingers into the depth of her henna’d hair):
“Say uh, anyone ever call you Red?”
