Cold Fish – Chapter 1

So here we are, the five of us at sat in the same bar, at the same table at the same time. As Bon Jovi almost sang, “It’s all the same, only the drinks have changed”. Not that our order was different, but the staff had not, obviously, kept our drinks from a couple of nights ago. Mainly cos we had drunk them and we would have to have regurgitate them. Teller, we were not.

(I have a confession to make. A couple of times I did regurgitate mine. Just not in a form that would facilitate re-drinking them. Not unless I was a contestant on one of those bizarre Japanese game shows. But I digress.)

At the moment we are talking the usual down the pub, going out on the piss bollocks. You know, switching rapidly from one subject to another. Mac, however, seems ready to challenge us.

“I have this theory…” Mac starts. Told you. I have to interrupt him.

“Not another of your ‘unprovable’ theories,” I say.

I feel I should expand on this point. Every night out since the five of us started hanging out together (and that’s a lot of nights folks) Mac has come up with a theory (usually pop culture related). Every night out, we have been asked to prove it wrong. And every night out we have. Law of averages states that he should not be proven wrong soon.

“Prove me wrong on this one then,” Mac says. “There are no decent scriptwriters…”

Kara interrupts this time. “Fuck off. There are loads.”

“Rules of engagement state that no disproving of theories will take place until such time as the full statement of the theorem which is to be disproved has been made,” states Mac. I am not making this up. This is how he says things like this. He cannot simply say “Shut up and let me finish.”

“There are no decent scriptwriters,” Mac repeats, finishing this time with, “who have not also become directors.” At this, everyone at the table looks to Rick, our resident film expert. If anyone could disprove this one, it was him.

“Kevin Williamson,” Rick said.

Kara took this one “Directed a film called Teaching Miss Tingle.”

“Next?” Mac asked.

“Christopher McQuarrie,” Kara offered.

“Who?” inquired Mac.

“Wrote ‘The Usual Suspects’,” Kara explained.

“Wrote and directed ‘The Way Of The Gun’,” I said.

“Robert Rodeguez. Wrote ‘From Dusk Till Dawn’,” Rick stated, with the air of one who is right.

Kara burst his bubble again. “Directed ‘El Mariachi’. And ‘Desperado’. And ‘The Faculty’.”

I decided to be stupid. “Tarantino,” I proffered. Why? I was getting bored.

“Now you were removing Mr Mouse. ” Kara stated.

Now Mac was feeling brave. He boasted, “You can’t do it. You cannot disprove my theory.” He should, of course, never have said that. Because as soon as he did, Zeb spoke up.

“John Hodge.” It was his only contribution to the debate and it took all of us by surprise. He did not even look up as he spoke. Just sat there, staring at the table, lit cig in one hand, messing with a puddle on the table with a black varnished nail. But that was just Zeb’s way.

“Shit! Good call.” That was Rick. Course he was pissed because he did not think of him first.

Mac, in a fit of desperation, decided to ask, “Who?”

Zeb answered. “Wrote Shallow Grave and Trainspotting.” He still did not look up. Typical.

“Yet to direct a film,” Kara finished.

“Bastard,” was Macs reply. Law of averages were told to take a running jump. Again

If this was a film, here is where I would put the opening titles. Then I would probably introduce the group to you. Y’know, their names, pithy comments about them, that sort of thing. But it’s not, so I won’t. OK then, I will. Mac, Kara, Rick and Zeb. They are my drinking buddies. They are my friends.

So why don’t I introduce them properly? Is it because I don’t know them well enough? Well, yeah. But who knows anyone else really well? Honestly, how much do you really know about your friends? You may know that they like, say, heavy metal. But for all you know, the best concert they ever went to might be Runrig. That ultra-sane guy you know? The one who always gives other people advice? The one who can cheer you up, even if you’re feeling suicidal? For all you know, he could be planning to lock himself inside his flat tomorrow and take pot shots at people in the street below out of his living room window with the rifle he has hidden. If asked about him after the event, what would you say?

This is the point I’m trying to make. No matter how much we claim we don’t, we change who we are to suit who we are with at the time. We are a series of images. Which one we project depends on the company.

TBC