It’s 5.30 p.m. and I’m with Greek Martin Sheen at The Empress in North Fitzroy.

It’s raining and we’re outside, sitting beneath an umbrella.

He tells me that when he walked in, these two old guys were sitting at the bar not really talking, just staring at the bargirl.

He says, ‘It was weird. Their skin was yellow, like they’d been drinking straight for fifty years. One of the old guys said, “Love,” to the bargirl, and she said, “Yeah,” and the old guy said, “Love, we just wanted to say we think you’re gorgeous.” The bargirl squinted — like, she kept pouring a beer for someone but she was squinting — and the old guy took the other old guy’s hand and whispered something, and the other old guy said, “I know, I know.” Then the bar girl said, “What’s that?” And the other old guy looked up and took off his hat and wiped his face with his sleeve and said, “Our daughter. You reminded us of our daughter.”’

I say, ‘Woah.’

And Greek Martin Sheen says, ‘Yeah.’

I check my iPhone.

Lisa Facebook messages to see if I’ve seen Spring Breakers.

And I type, ‘Nope J’

Lisa replies, ‘Let’s meet at 6.30 at cinema nova in carlton.’

And I type, ‘Cool.’

We sip our beer.

Next to us there are some people having a ‘thing’.

One of the girls at the table is dressed in fur and drinking white wine.

A girl in a blue jumper comes through the door and sits down at the table.

I don’t think they know each other.

I get this text from Mark that says, ‘Did you use my onion?’

And I text back, ‘Sorry. I thought it was mine.’

The girl dressed in fur drags on a Virginia Slim and says, ‘I just got back from Bali.’

The girl in the blue jumper says, ‘Kuta? I love Kuta!’

And the girl dressed in fur rolls her eyes, leans in, and says, ‘No, sweetie. Seminyak.’

Mark texts, ‘Well, it wasn’t yours.’

And I reply, ‘Yeah, sorry, I’ll replace it.’

Greek Martin Sheen says, ‘Man, when I turned eighteen, my dad took me to the pub and we just sat and drank beer and played pool.’

I drink my beer and listen.

‘Yeah, I thought he was going to bring up how I didn’t get into uni or something, but he didn’t.’ He laughs. ‘It was nice — just, like, spending time.’

And I remember that when I finished high school I studied business because Dad said I would be good at business.

And this reminds me of a pet-sitting service Brigitte had started back in Texas.

She was eleven.

I was thirteen.

She’d gone door-to-door, handing out flyers and making eye contact with potential clients.

She charged ten dollars a day to sit someone’s pet.

It seemed good and I wanted in.

She told me she didn’t really need the help, but I came anyway.

This one lady had asked her to pet-sit two dogs and a goldfish.

She gave us the keys to their house before they went to Mexico or Guatemala or Vegas.

We walked into the house, and I told the two dogs to sit.

They didn’t sit.

I pushed their bottoms down.

They sat.

I turned to Brigitte and said, ‘Well, our job here is done.’

She fed the fish.

I turned on the television and found the ice-cream.

I wasn’t asked back.

Greek Martin Sheen says, ‘It was the last time, man.’

And I say, ‘Yeah.’

Grinning because I don’t know what he means.

Around us, rain falls on tables.

He says, with his head bowed, ‘The last time.’

I watch him pour some beer into our ashtray.

All the cigarette butts float in the ashy water.

He says, ‘I remember he had all these coins lined up on the edge of the pool table and people kept asking if they could play, but he kept saying, “Wait your turn,” and people listened, you know.’

And I say, ‘Yeah.’

And he says, ‘After he left, I took all the coins. I kept them, man. I’ve still got them.’

The girl dressed in fur says, ‘Well, I work at American Apparel, but I’m also a part-time model … I just don’t want it to become my life, you know? Like, it’s a problem — or something.’

And Greek Martin Sheen says, ‘Was gonna throw them out, but I didn’t.’

My iPhone vibrates and Mark texts, ‘Yeah, next time maybe just be respectful enough to ask.’

Greek Martin Sheen drops his cigarette into the ashtray filled with water.

It goes sssssttttt and floats around with the other cigarettes.

I notice the time and say, ‘I better go.’

And Greek Martin Sheen smiles.

Except it’s the kind of smile that’s not really a smile.

It’s the kind of smile I’ll make when I’m diagnosed with cancer.

It’s the kind of smile you’re smiling right now.