Cold Fish – Chapter 1 – contd

But the main reason I don’t introduce them is because of the drink. It’s got me to the stage where I cannot be arsed. Besides the group are all staring at me.

My next sentence is a one-word question. “What?”

“Thought we would have to send a postcard,” Kara says, “you were so far away. Here, we got you a fresh pint.”

“Cheers,” I reply.

“But in return,” Zeb informs me, “You have to start a new thread of conversation.”

“Yeah, come on spaceman,” Mac chips in. “Upon which delightful topic of conversational stimulation should we set our thought processes on at this juncture in our slow passage through the unstoppable force called time, the one which is moving us without halting towards our dirt bed?”

“Translation?” I am forced to ask.

“What do you want to talk about?” Mac replies. Why he could not have asked me this in the first place shall forever remain a mystery.

“Well, if you are going to suffer from verbal dihorrea, it’ll be a yes/no question.”

“Sorry.”

“Good,” I said. How about this: if you were told you could listen to one song and then you would go deaf, which song would you choose?”

“Ask something easy why don’t you?” Kara blurted out. “Like, I don’t know, the answer to the question of life, the universe and everything.”

“42,” Mac answers.

“The problem is,” Zeb continues, “what’s the question?”

“I’ve set the question,” I replied. “All I need is for you lot to answer.”

“Yeah, but your question cannot be answered by the number 42,” Mac argues. I mime throwing something at him. He ducks.

“I’ve got an answer for you Joel. Miss Misery by Eliot Smith,” Rick says.

“Where is that from?” Mac inquires.

“’Good Will Hunting’. The end of the film? It’s just such a beautiful song. Eliot should have won the Oscar for it,” was Ricks reply.

“Who did win that year?” I ask.

“Sealion Dying,” Rick says. “Sorry, Celine Dion.”

Kara pipes up. “My choice is Karma Police by Radiohead. Most people think that Paranoid Android is the best song on that album, but I think that Karma Police is hugely underrated.”

“Birdhouse In Your Soul,” Mac contributes, “by They Might Be Giants. Good tune, slightly strange lyrics. And I’ll bet that Zeb picks a Nine Inch Nails song.”

“Or a Smiths song,” Rick says.

“Yeah,” Mac states. “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now.”

“Once everyone is finished deciding my answer for me. My choice is actually The Star And The Wiseman by Ladysmith Black Mambazo,” Zeb informs us. We are genuinely shocked by this answer.

“You mean the song from the Heinz ad’s?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Zeb explains, “It is brilliantly structured, beautiful and even more amazing is the fact that no instruments were used.

“And what is Joels choice?” Kara enquires.

“Well, we all know the band,” says Zeb. It’s kind of a running joke that in a situation like this, I’ll choose Belle and Sebastian.

“Mary Jo,” I inform them.

“Where is that from?” I’m asked.

“Last track on Tigermilk.” I state. “So I can hear the lines ‘but what you want is a cigarette/And a thespian in a caravanette in Hull’ one last time.”

“As good a reason as any,” Mac says.

And on it goes. Shortly after this we move to a nightclub where the group drifts apart. Till next time.

And at the other side of the world, it is getting near lunchtime.