It's all just a ploy!

If life has taught me anything in this crazy world we live in, it’s that there is a first time for everything. (Exemptions applicable to Hermits and OCD sufferers). But fortunately - and sometimes unfortunately, for the rest of us - we remain subject to the spontaneous and in some cases the assumably impossible, made a reality by Murphy's law in all its random glory.

Tim
"Booyah! that's game bitches. $40, pay the man."

As the two scrunched 20 dollar bills hit the deck of the pool table, an over exaggerated high five echoes the defeat, ultimately proclaiming the victorious. Well that and the synchronized pelvic thrusts targeting the defeated from the other side of the table as they, heads dropped, dawdle out of the room in utter disgrace.

James Grant and Tim Harvey, the undisputed doubles champions and self titled house pro's of the Harvey household. So much so that round these parts, they’re often referred to as the woodies of intoxicated pool.

(Sub explanation: the Woodies is the name of the Australian tennis team of Todd Woodbridge and Mark Woodforde. whilst both decent players, when partnered together, in their prime were considered by most Australians as unbeatable).

much like my money sharking companions.

I wish I could say I felt sorry for the long list of casualties but to play them for money on their own turf is just plain stupid. Everybody knows when it comes to pool you just can’t fuck with the home town advantage. Every bend, curve and dip has been well analysed and is exploited in full diabolical force.

The rapid thrusts continued in perfect synchronisation until line of sight was lost, admittedly this is not an uncommon occurance. Tim took several bows before sitting down, whereas James said not a word, instead he stood in his own excellence and waved to the peasants. Sigh again not uncommon.

Tim
"Thank you linesmen, thank you ball boys."

James
"Forgive my intrusion ladies but you must excuse my rudeness, for I, James the first, must pee. Feel free to worship me in my absence"

And with that James disappeared into the crowd displaying his best kingly walk.

Kev
"Yeah yeah, three shakes is classed as a wank your highness"


Roughly 10 minutes later he emerged from the crowd, drink in hand and still mildly pleased with himself. This was rather strange, seeming that our booze not to mention the keg was downstairs with us and NOT in the toilet, which at the time was quite frightening due to A)why was he drinking a beer he found in the toilet and of course, much more disturbingly B) if that's not the case just where exactly did he take a piss?

Strolling passed inquisitive eyes he plonked himself up on the counter next to me and took a sip of his drink.

me
"Nice beer."

James
"You know it."

Tim
"You pissed in my fridge didn't you?"

James
"Haha, nah man! Jackson, you know something that guy's alright.

Tim
"So Jackson pissed in my fridge"

James
"What, no.... well, I don’t know, at least I didnt see him do it. He stopped me on the way back, said he was watching us play, gave me the beer.”

Uuhh hang on, Shit! maybe I should back it up a bit, sorry:

Recently our parties have been drawing some serious crowds, now I say parties but what I really mean is gatherings, hoedowns, corroborees and any other social arrangements of the sort. Once upon a time, back in high school, it was just us, if we wanted to hang out and drink one night, we could feel free to do so knowing full well that when we woke after we crashed out, the house would be relatively in the same state of that of which we left it and that if it wasn't, it was cool cause it was just us, and if something was, touch wood, broken, stolen or defecated, it was undoubtably morally called for. If you wanted to get your serious party on, you would do it at some other random’s house not yours, for the obvious reasons.

But the times have been a changing. Most of us split up to different unis, jobs etc, so when the words "social get together" are thrown around, all of the sudden the number of "us" become larger, considerably larger. Consequently, many conversations were falsely interpreted and as of thus far have been deemed outdated and useless.

Example:

"so I’m probably gonna have a quiet one. Few drinks at this guys house, real casual like. No big deal, not like it's a party or anything. Should be good."

Interpretation:

I’m probably gonna have a quiet one. Few drinks at this guys house, real casual like. No big deal, not like it's a Party or anything. Should be a good party, we'll see how the party goes, party, party, party. You and every other drop kick you know should come to our party, I will be personally offended if you don’t party with us at the party….party….big party…….. party."

You can see how things can get a little confused, so to keep up with the times an invitation like the above is now more likely to sound a bit more like:

"So I’m gonna get out my shotgun this weekend and just unload on anyone who walks passed this guy's house, Yep. I’m a be shootin fuckers from dusk till dawn, no big deal, should be good.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, why wouldn’t you just not say anything? Avoid the whole “misunderstanding” all together? A logical statement I’ll give you that, but flawed none the less, because since our new found fame we have come to understand that, without being picky, we like having a vast majority of people at these things and this way we can semi control who and the amount of whom attend.

Exaggerate much?! Maybe, but the moral of the story is our parties have gotten bigger and that it’s never a good idea to take candy from hookers.

So anyway one of the regular attendees was this Asian dude named Jackson, nice enough guy, very metro though. He was a friend of a friend of our friends to begin with, but after a few gatherings he had worked his way to at least the inner-outer circle of the friendships hierarchy. He was a class act, Jackson, and all in all was a pretty smooth criminal.

Ha criminal! get it,…Haha… you know, from the…. With the….. glove,…hmmm!

Fun fact number one about Jackson is that his name isn’t Jackson, it was Jun Tao or Jun Tin, definitely Jun something. In any case Jun was deemed entirely too much effort and Jun became Jack. I had considered that to be somewhat disrespectful earlier in the piece but you know, whatever!

Not long after, Jack combined with the efforts of the karate kid, quickly transferred to Jackson when a quickly pronounced “Jack, son” was met instantly by intoxicated cheers, drinks clashing together in celebration and several attempted moonwalks in awe of the un documented moment of clarity, partnered with the event of discovering how clever we are.

So Jun something became Jack and Jack became Jackson and that’s who allegedly didn’t piss in Tim’s fridge.

And we’re back in!

Kim
“Well that was nice of him.”

Tim glared at James for a second before slowly backing up out of the room and heading for the kitchen.

James
“Ha, yeah guess he recognised the skills or sumthan.”

Kev
“The skills? Yeah Im sure that’s exactly it Jay-Z, player be running hoes up in this mother, and the Jackman knows to recognise. “

James, along with the rest of the circle, paused and began to stare at Kev in unified silence . One eye brow cocked with a half smirk James took a slow sip of his drink and continued to smirk.

As Kev let out a rather loud “you guys are jerks.” Ang put her hand on his knee in mock sympathy.

James continued on about Jackson until he had finished drinking the man’s gift. By this time Tim had returned and the look of relief on his face as he entered through the hallway could not be mistaken.

James
“You know it’s always better when you’ve earned it.”

Tim
“Yeah I suppose I was just a bystander, huh, ass.”

James
“Well I’ll go get one off him for you if it means that much to you, wouldn’t mind paying him a little visit anyway.”

The circle was once again struck by silence only this time there was no smirking to be found.

James
“What?”

More staring…

James
“Have you seen the girls he rolls with, the man’s a magnet.”

Tim
“You guys talkin’ bout Jackson.”

James
“Maybe he’s on to something with the whole metro thing, not my cup of tea personally, but it seems to work with the kids these days, what with their crazy hair styles and angry rap music.”

Grant
“C’mon man, be realistic. Just where you gonna get a pair of cut offs from.”

Tim
“Yeah uh, Jackson’s gay fellers.”

Kim, Ang, Kev and Nicky almost in harmony expressed their delight: “Really”.

After which everybody stopped and curiously stared at Kevin once again.

Nicky
“A little excited are we, Kevin?”

James
“Dude, what is wrong with you tonight?”

Kev
“What?....it’s just...I didn’t mean!…You no what, Fuck you guys!”

And with that he flipped us all off and proceeded to walk out mumbling and grumbling obscenities and what not to himself, as the majority of us struggled to hold a straight face.

He disappeared around the corner only to pop his head back around to ask if anybody wanted anything whilst he was up.

James
“I don’t know man, seems a little suss if you ask me. Who told you that?”

Grant
“I guess you could probably make ‘em, but then you’d ruin a perfectly good pair of jeans.”

Tim
“Does it matter? Trust me, he is.”

Jumping to his feet from the bench, James moved to the doorway and peered into the crowd.

Tim
“Why do you think he brought you the beer man?”

James
“Maybe it’s a ploy.”

Grant
“Unless you bought a cheap pair and make ‘em from that, but if you did that, you might as well buy yourself the real deal, you know.”

Me
“A ploy? What like a scam? Right cause that makes much more sense.”

Grant
“Unless, you bootlegged em from…”

Tim
“God damn it, would yah shut up about the cut offs, I swear I’m gonna bottle you”

Grant just chuckled to himself as he went face first into his beer.

Me
“Who are you even talking to man?”

James
“Well, these days woman are like, stupid and…”

Grant sprung from his stool as I leapt off the counter to meet an advancing Ang and Kim, grabbing and throwing them over the pool table into the shelving across the room.

Oh come on, I kid. I kid, ‘cause I love.

Grant sprung from his stool as I leapt off the counter to meet an advancing Ang and Kim, effectively stopping their attack by a graceful clench around the waist.

Me
“Woah, easy Tiger.”

Grant
“He’s not finished yet.”

Some exaggerated flailing about demonstrated their objections to being held in contempt, however their passion for blood never lasts long and not short after the heat of the moment had died down to but a subtle breeze.

Kim
“Let me go Grant, now.”

Ang pushed my hands off her and re adjusted her composure.

Ang
“Alright, I’m cool.”


Grant released Kim and slowly backed away, hands held open in cautious submission. Kim pointed the blunt end of her empty mud-shake at James and sat back down on her chair.

James
“What I mean is, I have heard that sometimes guys go around saying things like they’re gay or religious or whatever so that woman take to the challenge of changing them, like for sport or sumthan.”

Ang
“Oh, that can’t be true.”

Me
“Actually, yeah come to think of it, I have heard of such a thing.”

Ang
“Yes I’m sure You would have”

Me
“What?! What’s that supposed to mean”

Ang just shrugged her shoulders and ignored the question altogether.

Tim
“Yeah, well Ive heard that every time Jack Nicholson makes love, a pixie fairy dies, but it doesn’t change the fact that that man over there, is gay my friends.”

James
“Bah, I must know the truth.”

Alerted to the sound of a challenge, he darted back to his jacket to retrieve his phone and, I’m guessing, his super secret spy gear.

Nicky
“James, um… why?”

James
“Because the truth will set you free, Nicky”

Nicky seemed slightly confused as to the relevance of his statement.

James
“You do want to be free don’t you?”

Nicky
“Well I guess.”

James
“Well then come gentlemen, we go to freedom!”

And he began to march out of the room.

Me
“Free, James?...Really?”

James
“Like a mother fucking bird!”

And off he went.

Tim
“You think he wants us to go with him?”

Grant
“I’m really not sure it matters at this point”


We left it for a bit and continued with our night, none of us overly concerned about James’s mission or its context. If you had of asked me I would have lied, but on paper I must admit as the night progressed I was slightly intrigued as to how it was all coming along maybe even a little concerned as to how he planned to retrieve the information. But those emotions had been carefully filed, primarily in the back of my mind and as the night unfolded I was distracted more and more from the cause.

As the night rolled on Kev returned from his own adventures. He looked slightly puzzled as he sat down as if pondering something of the greatest importance.

Kev
“Anybody know what the fuck’s up with James?”

Tim
“Why what’s happening?”

Kev
“I don’t know, he’s acting real strange, I walked up to him before and he was trying to convinced some dude to drop his phone and bend over to pick it up or somethan, what’s up with that?”

Grant and I began to laugh.

Tim
“Was Jackson nearby?”

Kev
“Wouldn’t surprise me, he’s been floating around him all night, what’s he doing?”

Tim
“Maybe we should go help him or something.”

Grant
“Shot not”

Tim, Kev ,Ang, Nicky and Kim
“Shot not”

Me
“shot n…argh Damn it”

Fricken anti-shotgun rule!

Me
“Alright fine, I’m going. Anyone coming?”

Grant
“Shot not”

Tim
“Shot not”

Me
“Alright, alright! Forget it.”

Nicky
“Hang on, I kinda wanna see what he’s up to anyway.”

So Nicky and I headed for the kitchen, we grabbed a few fresh drinks and began to track him down, which we eventually did, outside, standing on the top steps, overlooking the backyard real stealth like.

Me
“Any progress?”

James
“Oh dude I’m glad your’re here, you gotta do me this favour, go over there and…”

Me
“I’m not bending over in front of Jackson, James!”

James
“Fine! Hey ,maybe if Nicky were to go over there and…”

James paused mid sentence on account of the evil eye he was receiving from Nicky as she passed him a fresh drink.

James
“Fair enough.”

Nicky
“Soooo what have we learned?”

James
“Not much, there’s a guy down there that it looks like he’s with, but there really isn’t much gayness going on. I’ll never know like this anyway, cause his posse never leaves so I cant be sure if its an act or not. I gotta get him away from em”

Me
“Do you know if he’s seen you tailing him?”

James
“Are you kidding, I’m like the wind baby.”

A truce was signed and we returned back to our seating in the pool room, business returned to the norm and all was good in the hood. Later, during a lengthily debate of what I’m sure was of the greatest importance James pounced from his seat and took off down the hallway. Tim and I rose to our feet in pursuit.

Grant
“Shot not”

Tim
“Shut up, you’re coming”

We followed up the hallway, swerving and weaving through the human traffic only to come to a screaming halt at the front door.

“He’s leaving.” James whispered

Tim
“Why are you whispering, idiot”

James
“Can’t let that happen.”

As he attempted a casual dismount from our little front door meeting, he signalled for us to follow, which we reluctantly did.

James
“Hey Jackson, man you leaving already.”

Jackson
“Yeah, killer party guys, but I’m out. You know how it is.”

James
“C’mon man I still owe you a beer, just stay there and I’ll fetch you one, one for the road, huh, champ.”

Before he could answer James was off, leaving myself, Tim and Grant to hold the fort. It’s kind of hard to explain the atmosphere surrounding this particular part of the night, understand we all knew Jackson and we aren’t the type of people to whom his preference of gender would make any kind of difference. Nevertheless things remained to be noticeably awkward. Mainly, I feel, due to us being wise to James’s prior escapades and the knowledge that Jackson might not be so happy about it.

To ease the tension surrounding our covert orders Tim and I began to fill in the blanks with some small talk as Grant attempted the same.

Grant
“So you like the cock huh? Nice!”

Before you ask, yes he really did say that and yes it was fucking awkward.

We froze in horror, unable to conjure up the words to salvage the moment. Grant however appeared to be under the impression that he had just asked something remotely appropriate like if Jackson likes pineapple or something, from the way he calmly waited for a response. Jackson simply smiled looked at the guy he had come with and without a word they headed back in the house.

Me
“Dude, what the fuck.”

Grant
“What!?”

Me
“What do you mean what?! What the fuck!?”

Grant
“Oh grow up! Would you get offended if I asked you if you like boobs, No! you wouldn’t, you’d be like show me where the boobs at! There is no need to tip toe around it.”

Me
“Shit! Why does that make sense?”

Grant
“Because I am king.”

Tim
“Well, at least he’s back inside”

Grant
“I guess that’s case closed then gentlemen”

Me
“Anybody else notice, Jackson didn’t seem to confide too much in his man friend.”

Grant
“Not really, why? You think James might be on to something?”

Tim
“Pffft, not likely”

Me
“I don’t know, just seemed weird is all.”

Against Grants reassurance, we gave it a little time before heading back in, some avid party goers were providing enough entertainment to kill a few minutes, so there seemed to be no need to rush things.

But as it became apparent that there was no possible way those guys could get the carrot all the way up there, we made our way back inside to find things cruising along quite nicely. James had some how convinced the girls to distract Jackson’s posse enough to get some quality interrogation time, don’t know how he managed that one but nevertheless as we entered there they were carrying out James’s bidding. Jackson shot a quick but noticeable look towards Grant, but other than that there really wasn’t much more said.

Round after round went by and good fun was being had by all. The night was getting late, the drinks were getting few and the conversations were getting deeper.

Unable to answer for sure the question plaguing his mind, James seemed to be taking it rather well, sitting to the side strumming his guitar whilst throwing in the occasional “Will I ever know, oh! Oh…oh, oh! will I ever never knoooow , oh oh” to the melody and then pretending to cry.

I was beginning to feel the need to call it a night , when Grant shuffled over to the counter, which I was now, eyes closed, completely sprawled out upon.

Grant
“Dude, you still with us?”

Me
“I don’t know, you still a dick?”

Grant
“Hey, you’re being funny now, that’s great, listen I’ve got news.”

Me
“You’ve got news? That’s awesome Grant, good luck with that, I hope it all works out for you.”

Grant
“Seriously, listen! Jackson’s not here but he’s still here, you know”

Me
“Uh, huh”

Grant
“You know, he’s here, but not here.”

Me
“………”

Grant
“Like here, here!”

Me
“……..”

Grant

“…….”

Me
“Yeah, dude, I’m not really in the mood for your Zen shit right now so if you could just, you know...!?

Grant
“Idiot, he didn’t leave, but he is not in this room, and MOST of his friends are still in this room!”

Me
“………”

Grant
“Most of them.”

Me
“….Ohhh, right, so go tell James man, why you talking to me for?”

Grant
“I don’t know, I was thinking maybe not. Wouldn’t it be funny if tomorrow when he’s hung over, we tell him he had an opportunity to know but he didn’t see it.”

Me
“Will you stop being such a dick and go tell the man.”

Grant
“But I was thinking…”

Me
“Grant!”

Grant
“Fine.”

Me
“Dick.”

Eyes still closed, I clawed around for something to throw at Tim in case he wanted to intervene. Considering but eventually bypassing a few empty beer bottles and a big glass bowl of something, I settled for a rubber stress ball lying just within arms reach.

Opening to a squint, I flung the projectile as best I could. Luckily for me it miraculously hit its desired target. Tim replied quite vocally at first, but as I pointed to the conversation in the corner, his head swivelled a quick scan of the room before he nodded in approval and leant in for a closer listen.

James
“Are you kidding me, fuck I love you man.”

Throwing his arms around him James landed several big kisses on the top of Grants fragile head.

James
“Mwaaah, Mwaaah, I love this guy”

Grant
“Oh, c’mon man”

James
“Mmmmmwwwwwwaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!”

Though I doubt he was enjoying it as much as he would have liked, Grant made little effort to repel James from his moment of weakness. He just stood limp, arms dropped to the side as if he was a Grant-size, stuffed teddy bear.

James
“You hear me, I love this guy right here!”

As he released him from his kung fu grip, James made a bee line for the door, where I assumed he would be halted by the words of a concerned Tim.

“Go get ‘em Jim.”

Considering prior events I was not expecting that, the whole night I got the feeling Tim didn’t seem to be down with the whole mission, not that any of us were any more than entertained by the whole ideal for that matter. I guess it wasn’t a defining moment, it just seemed strange to me at the time.

As the loud sound of fast paced footsteps tracked over every square inch of the house, Tim smiled at me as he chucked the rubber stress ball back over. When it landed on my chest, I sat back up and launched the rubber squeeze thing once more.

I thought about the night’s events, the secret battle between the unknowing competitor and the seeker of truth and freedom.

Or you know, just some dude stalking another dude for an entire night! But, whatever you want to call it, as of this point, from where I was standing, I couldn’t say for sure what was going on out there, none of us could, really.

Based on tonight’s experiment it was as much possible for Jackson to be the epitome of sodomisers, as it was for a group of teenagers and a semi retarded dog to rock up in a suspicious looking combie van, ripping off Jackson’s mask and revealing him to be Mr Larson, the old janitor from the docks.

“And I would have got away with it to, if it wasn’t for that punk kid James, aarrgghh!”

The footsteps seemed to be scampering back over themselves before stopping all together. After a few seconds, the sound of a man on a mission revived, thumps gradually getting softer until the sound of a screen door being flung open echoed the room.

The intensity of the moment began to rise as those of us lucky enough to still be conscious silently predicted both the contents and the outcome of what was taking place outside.

In many ways James was right, everything did seem a little suss and there was only one way to find out but it was only he who was brave enough to accept the challenge, only he, selfless enough to invade another mans privacy right until the bitter end.

The rubber projectile was crossing the living room for its sixth or seventh time, when the sound of the screen door re-opening froze everything in the room, leaving the rubber ball hovering mid flight over the pool table.

Okay, that’s not physically possible, but the room did seem to be frozen in anticipation.

We all sat, eyes fixed on the entrance from the hallway.


Watching…


Waiting…


When in he walked, white as a ghost, eyes fixated on the floor. Calmly walking, un phased by the obstacles and enquiring eyes in his path he passed the counter on which I was perched upon, Tim lobbed the ball over as he grinningly questioned James.

“So, did you…”

“Yup.”

“ And did he see…”

“Yup.”

“ Wow, that must have…”

“Yup.”

Tim then began a valiant effort to fight back his impending joy.

James without even glimpsing up, made his way to the living room wall, leant his back against it and let his legs slowly give out from under him.

“So, a ploy, huh, James?”

I asked as I lobbed the stress ball into his lap,

“Nope! Definitely not a ploy!”

“So when you…”

“Yup”

“He was…”

“yup”

“Wow, that must have…”

“Yup”

“……”

“…….”

“Do you wanna talk…”

“Nope, not ever”

“Are you…”

“NOT EVER!!”

I guess, it’s like I said, in many ways James was right! But then in many, much more accurate ways he was completely wrong, much to the delight of everyone else


Special Thanks to Kim