It turns out I can work whenever I want.

Mick said, ‘If ya wanna come in and work, you can work, and if ya wanna take the day off, take it off.’

So I decided to take it off.

It seemed like the responsible thing to do.

I’m sitting on my bed.

I feel horny.

I touch myself.

I come.

It feels good but the feeling passes and I’m just a human lying in bed with cum on his sheets.

I think: go to the city.

That’s what people do.

I get on the tram to Carlton Gardens.

I get off the tram at Carlton Gardens.

In the park I find a blue hat that says ‘New Orleans’ on the front.

I think: today is the day I put my friendship hat on.

I put the hat on and feel transformed.

I begin smiling.

What if I walked around all day with a smile and made direct eye contact at people using non-threatening hand gestures?

People would be smitten.

I would smite them.

They would think, ‘Damn, he is approachable and fun!’

In front of me, they would openly Skype each other and say, ‘I feel at ease in his presence!’

While looking at me to show how at ease they are in my presence.

I pass a mother holding her child on a leash and I smile and make direct eye contact and wave using a non-threatening wave, and she yanks her child’s leash and her child says, ‘Oww.’

I walk to the State Library.

Outside the State Library there are many skateboarders.

A skateboarder does a trick down these stairs and all the skateboarders tap their skateboards against the ground like they are clapping.

I think: in skateboarding, you tell someone you like them and they still like you back.

I wonder if it’s an American thing.

I don’t know.

I say, ‘Sick, bro.’

And the skateboarder says, ‘Thanks, bra!’

And I think: part of the team.

I think about saying, ‘How do you go backside nectar?’

Because it was something me and Bear always said growing up.

Bear is a really good skateboarder.

Like, really good.

I think we got the line from a Disney movie.

Maybe Johnny Tsunami.

Johnny Tsunami might have said, ‘How do you go backside nectar?’

He was a surfer from Hawaii who learned how to snowboard almost professionally in one day.

The best thing about ‘backside nectar’ was that it wasn’t even a term.

No one said it before the movie.

It was kinda like one of the Disney executives had said, ‘Shit, we need Johnny to say something extreme,’ and then someone had said, ‘How about “nectar”,’ and then someone else had said, ‘Nah — more extreme. What about … backside … YEAH … backside nectar,’ and then someone else had said, ‘Wait — is that extreme enough?’ and then they had decided it was extreme enough and high-fived to congratulate themselves on being extreme.

And I remember me and Bear skateboarding.

He would kickflip a ten-stair and I would pussy out on a two-stair and we would stare at each other and I would say, ‘How do you go backside nectar, bra!’

I look at the skateboarder and say, ‘How do you go backside nectar, bra!’

Really loud.

And the skateboarder says, ‘What?’

And I say, ‘Never mind.’

I keep walking.

People are walking more quickly than me and I think about running.

In Texas I had a cross-country coach who would ride his bike next to us while we ran in one-hundred-degree heat.

He had phrases.

He would ride his bike and say things like, ‘Y’all about as useless as a one-legged man in an assssss-kickin’ contest.’

And, ‘It’s bout MIND over MATTA boys: I don’ MIND and YOU don’ MATTA.’

What if I just ran through the city.

Just wore my friendship hat and bought a vest from an op shop that had the number 1067 on it with sponsors from companies like Nike and McDonald’s and ran around bumping into people and yelling, ‘Sorry.’

Connecting with people.

They would be annoyed but then they would think: look at his determination. Look at his core strength and attitude towards life.

Maybe they would start running.

I imagine everyone in the city running around together, bumping into each other, laughing and yelling, ‘Sorry!’

Because, maybe, that’s what connecting is: people laughing together about things that make no sense.

I don’t know.

Across Swanston Street there’s this Japanese restaurant called Don Don.

I walk across the street but there’s a sign that says Don Don has moved.

The only other cheap place I can think of is Rue Bebelons.

I walk to Rue Bebelons but there’s a sign that says Rue Bebelons has closed down.

Two tweens pass and one of them says, ‘What the fuck is going on?’

I google the new Don Don and walk to it.

Don Don is amazing because the time it takes to order until you are holding your food is less than twenty seconds.

They are the Beach Sloth of take-away food.

My phone vibrates and there’s a Facebook message from Lisa.

My heart goes from beat, beat, beat to beatbeatbeat, and I read it.

She messages, ‘yes … yeah J sounds good. I’m free friday.’

I stare at my iPhone and I can’t breathe.

I think: breathe.

I breathe.

Air is good.

I try to take in all the goodness and my head gets light.

I walk to the counter and say, ‘A tofu curry don, please.’

I pay $5.90.

I begin timing twenty seconds in my head.

And I think: if this takes longer than twenty seconds, Lisa and I will kiss on Friday.

And I imagine us lying in the sun on a blanket listening to ‘Wicked Game’ by Chris Isaak through split headphones, making out.

And for every second that passes, Lisa and I are doing more things on the blanket.

Five seconds pass, and we undo the buttons on each other’s jeans.

We pause before dragging our fingernails lightly down each other’s backs.

We are shaking.

By now it is dark.

The park is deserted and we are naked.

Our park is full of animals.

In the trees there are birds and possums, and baby possums that walk out along branches as we push close together.

Rolling off the blanket and onto the grass.

And there is dirt beneath the grass and it is hugging us and we are hugging each other.

Dizzy.

We are on our backs, our heads are turned, and we are staring at each other naked.

We stare at each other, breathing together with our legs wrapped around one another.

Kissing in the warm breeze.

And trembling.

With our hands moving slowly on each other’s thighs while our stomachs press together.

And our fingers trace hipbones and we hold our breath.

Exhaling as we touch each other.

Exhaling as we touch each other in a park somewhere.

The lady says, ‘Mister, your food.’

And I collect my food.

The food took two minutes.

I wish it took hours.