'The Boring Keith' by George Terry
Posted by sregan | Filed under prose
"Trust me, when I'm old I'm never going to forget what it was like to be a kid. 'Cause that's all growing up is, man, forgetting what you were, forgetting who you were. You get that?"
"I'm telling you, man - you chat some shit when you're pissed."
"I'm not pissed, man, I'm just saying, yeah. People like us - you and me - we're never going to get old, not if we don't want to."
"Alright Peter Pan, chill out, taxi's almost home."
"Yeah," I said, "yeah." I stared out the window for the rest of the journey, looking at all the people on their way to work, thinking - you poor, poor, fuckers. Thinking not one of them ever stood a chance.
The taxi came to about £15. We threw 20p in coppers at the cabbie and legged it the rest of the way.
***
I've always hated that time inbetween dialing a number and someone picking up the phone. It gives you too much time to rethink what was probably a bad idea in the first place.
"Hello?"
"You alright Kelly? It's Dowling,"
"Dowling?"
"Yeah, I met you the other night after work with all the boys from management. We're on the same floor together?
"What? Is this Keith Dowling?"
"Yeah that's the one - Keith Dowling from Accounting."
"Oh, hello Keith,"
"Yeah, hi - umm. I was just wondering if you fancied going out for a drink at some point - later this week?"
"A drink? Yeah sounds great, who's going out?"
"Who's going? Well, I was kind of thinking..."
"Oh, oh right, umm. Well I'm kind of busy this week, Keith, you know - it's that time of year again at the office,"
"What time of year?"
"You know, the busy one,"
"Yeah - yeah, you got to hate this busy time of year, you probably haven't even got time to be on the phone, really, have you?"
"No, no not really,"
"Well I'll leave you to it then, Kelly,"
"Cheers Keith, I'll see you on Monday,"
"You might."
***
"You know Keith, when you first walked through those doors... do you remember the time you first walked through those doors Keith?"
"Yeah, it was a Tuesday."
"Yes, it was. Anyway, when you first walked through those doors, I took one look at you and I said to myself, I said: 'Richard, if you take that boy, get rid of that skinhead look of his, and give him a real suit' - that was one of your Dad's old suits you wore on your first day, wasn't it Keith?"
"Yes Richard, yes it was."
"I can always tell! Anyway, what was I saying?"
"I think you'd just finished actually."
"Ah, so I had. Yes, well, the long and short of it is, I think you're a real asset to the company. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, yes I do."
"And I think you'd be an even greater asset up here with me. Do you see what I'm saying, Keith?"
I saw what he was saying. I just wished he wasn't taking so long about it.
"I'm saying assistant manager, Keith, that's what I'm saying."
***
"Hi Keith. It's Kelly. Congratulations on yet another big promotion! I know you must be busy and all nowadays but I was wondering if you fancied going out for a few drinks - or a meal to celebrate? You can call me anytime - or come and see me at the office if you like."
I never called her back; Kelly was the past, Kelly was the old Keith, the boring Keith, the Keith without an Impreza on the drive and a fuck-off widescreen on the ceiling of his bedroom.
***
"I'm sorry mate, we don't have any of that in here,"
"You what?"
"I said we don't have any of that. We're only a pub."
"What? What the fuck kind of pub doesn't serve Kristal?! Come on Monique, let's get out of here."
We walked down the street to some place called "Chez Pierre", or maybe it was "Chez Perry," I wasn't looking. But it had some massive chandelier in the middle of the place and everyone was wearing suits.
"This is more like it," I remember thinking on the way in. "This is what I'm about."
- George Terry
