The following is an extract from an Epic Poem Series called “One Night in the Tron” (ONIT) . Essentially a tale of wayward barfly’s and night owls over the course of 24hrs in Hamilton NZ.
This is Billy, or William as he is known at work. (See also Rogue Consultant.)
the Arrival William pulls into the carpark he’s found his usual spot he stubs out a cigarette he gathers what he’s got exiting the vehicle, a self talk full of pep a repeated mantra in his head to quicken up his step the doors open before him on to the polished tiles the receptionist there greets him he politely smiles. strolling through the foyer toward the elevator he considered taking the stairs maybe he will later waiting for the ding and for the doors to part many he must pass through before his day can start jostling for position in an upward moving can backpack over his shoulder and a coffee in his hand checking all his pockets frantically trying to find the lanyard and the card he’s probably left behind searching through his bag gripping at the strap coffee precariously balanced he’s in a rushed and urgent flap a pretty girl from marketing flashes him a smirk he drops the bloody coffee it splashes down her skirt hell what a bloody mess too big to be ignored turns out she’s presenting to the chairman and the board instantly, she ripped into him he stood there in shock “you’re a clumsy prick, look what you’ve done you're a total fuckin cock” apologies couldn’t cut it nothing could be said why’d he come to work today? he should’ve stayed in bed the Consultant William was an introvert, a quiet chap, socially ill at ease non combative, or competitive without need for niceties no follower of fashion but certainly distinct a penchant for the obscure peculiar and succinct there was no clues to what he thought and had pondered in his head the angle from which he projected, suggested he was indeed well read remarkably articulate with Immaculate precision whether relaying any observation or announcing some decision his reflections were an epiphany his insights a delight his critical analysis was simply ‘out of sight” his research and his evidence impeccable and without fault if his conclusions were ever challenged he could back up the result Dutch courage William was intelligent in many ways at least by most accounts but when it came to wooing the opposite sex his head was full of doubts he was no gift of the gab courtship was some secret art he lacked romantic subtlety he didn’t know where to start why they didn’t like him he had no way to explain when he made all of his intentions unambiguously plain he was sure he was a likable chap as remarkable as he was but something wasn’t getting through and it simply is because he could not talk to girls or anyone in a skirt he was super shy and reserved and didn’t know how to flirt he lacked the sense of humor the confidence and calm he was very shy around the girls had no chutzpah and no charm didn’t know how to say hello or in some way break the ice could not read the signals what was naughty? what was nice? so he figured…. he may as well be drunk to help his luck along see what happened when he didn’t think what could possibly go wrong Bar 1 - That guy He’d guzzled a dozen cans before they hit the side he’d sunk a couple of bourbons before getting pissy eyed he’d made it past the bouncer and with another in his hand he was leaning on a leaner assisting him to stand the art of conversation had slipped beyond his grasp did he need another? well, that's kind of you to ask he gazed around his surroundings he was looking for a chance to find a lovely lady he’d ask up for a dance he saw her standing there she was pretty and all alone she was flicking through some pages she was fiddling with her phone so he thought he’d have a crack what did he have to lose? he picked up his glass and necked the last bit of its booze then lurching forward in her direction and staggering about he managed to clear a heap of drinks and wipe a table out and tripping over a bar stool he managed to spill some more unable to keep his footing his face smacked to the floor a crowd gathered around him some trying to assist in a haze, eyes fully glazed they could tell that he was pissed looking up at all the faces that happened to appear one thought finally crossed his mind “what the fuck am I doing here?”. Billy’s on the move... The cobbles seemed to wobble as he put one foot in front of the other, there was stagger in his swagger As he swerved to miss the gutter he flashed a dopey grin but he was keeping it together in actual fact, it was all an act he’s totally under the weather he’s absolutely shit faced but consciously aware in a place he shouldn’t be and he must get out of there juggling random thoughts the semblance was in tatters publicly he’s all exposed where socially, this matters standing on the sidewalk he catches his reflection in the glass a darkened store front window, he hadn’t quite got past anchoring and centering takes a moment to regain and focus on the important stuff floating in his brain he releases a deep exhaling sigh blowing demons out his mouth sucking back, the cooling air to reinvigorate himself mentally composed he continues on his way he doesn’t look the way he thinks but it doesn’t matter anyway he don’t need another drink he might be fading fast but figures he’ll have just one more and that will be his last... Bar 2 Billy’s at the bar he needs another drink he likes the look of Sally so he gives a cheeky wink she doesn’t want a bar of him, she frowns and looks away Billy scans the crowd in search of another stray he’s well past the recommended dose, in his current state of health a wet left leg of his light blue jeans, the lad had pissed himself Bar 3 Billy’s eyes are party central there's a carnival in his mind look deep enough within them and that's where you will find a rainbow full of colour and a cosmos full of stars juggling clowns and acrobats and monkeys playing guitars a tiger with a twitchy tail a herd of elephants a barman with a tray of drinks and a drunk girl trying to dance fireworks and theatrics a town that's painted red there's no way you can really tell what's going on inside his head weaving through the dancefloor a dopey grin upon his face Billy shuffles up beside her with confidence and grace sexually seductive he whispers in her ear do you want to come and party babe let’s get out of here. Silly Billy. Say hello to Billy he had a shit of a night He’d hit on someone else's girlfriend that’s resulted in a fight a loner not a fighter he could not take a clout so when someone clocked him from behind it promptly knocked him out there stood a man in uniform with a fluorescent glowing vest He said now listen son, your night is done We’ve placed you under arrest Still a little groggy and struggling to stand two officers put some cuffs on him and threw him in the van So he sat there in the corner and hung his head in shame he considered the possibility there was no else to blame spinning there in vertigo how world began to whirl And up it came from down below he’s about to hurl bubbling chunder in the esophagus an eruptions about to form it’s a gushing fountain yodel a techno coloured yawn from the busted belching guts heaving forth a heinous brew with a stench to clench the driest reach and all who smell will spew there's something that’s unsettling when the vomit hits the nose its unpleasant and unpopular it’s hard to stay composed the theory was, that on this night the more he had the merrier and now he’s in the back of a van refurbishing the interior He coated all the walls my god it must have stunk And in finishing his final act he passed out… pissed and drunk A special shout out to the Hamilton Constables in the NZ Police Department.