A bender remembered, the end, Part 1

The house is empty. Acoustically, it is phenomenal, and the echoes are free making me feel that all my ghosts are purged. Out of the darkness and filth of a lost weekend, many truths were revealed, and what was formerly a confused ball of tangled twine now seems a straight road leading to who-knows-where. I'll close the door behind me and won't look back; it has been my motto since viewing the Pennebaker film.

I slammed--slammed!--a bottle of absinthe before walking to Natahsa's flat. Solemnly I walked through Gibbon's forest, now empty, and remembered the blonde girl I thought would be my new beginning but who I never heard from again. (But I never really loved her; she just reminded me of Julie Christie). I pulled my flask from the secret pocket of my coat and slammed--slammed!--a little more. The moon was yellow and there was three of them. Though elated and internally spitting swears, I knew this was not like other benders. It was much more philosophical.

As I exited the gates I danced like a serpent that had other serpents for arms. When I arrived at the flat, Natasha looked slutty, but not in a gaudy way: she simply dressed unabashedly, refusing to hide the sensual animal lurking beneath.

"Hello sweetheart," I said as I walked in, and I slapped her lovely bottom.

"Nigel! That is no way to treat a lady."

"A lady? Where? All I see is a whore."

I seemed to hit a nerve with that one.

"Nigel," she said. "I thought we could make this work."

"Fuck off," said I. "You're a whore, baby, so let's stop pretending. You're nothing. Come on. You're on the meter you filthy bird. Act like I want you to because you're mine."

She had a tear in her eye but I wiped it away and told her to get serious. We called a taxi and moved on to the dinner party.

One Last Bender, Part 3

I am preparing for the night by listening to a mixture of Leonard Cohen and The Rolling Stones. I shall pick Natasha up at 10:00. I have spent the last two hours doing shots and resistance training. Resonating through me is a strange combination of swagger and euphoria. As I type these words, I pace like a maniac--it is impossible to sit!--and I perform invigorating air punches. Take that! Bam! Bam! Kaplow!

All my finest clothes, I have given away; all, that is, except my favourite suit. It is a simple but elegant black number I purchased on Savile Row. Two buttons, single-breasted, simple. It is so beautiful on its own, one can forgo a pocket square. To the untrained eye, it looks like nothing, but to those with taste, it is sure to produce a sensual elation.

Every hair, though casually tussled, is exactly in its right place. I shall not let Natasha so much as touch me. Indeed I plan to drop her the first chance I get because I have come to the firm conclusion that she is an enormous bitch.

I am late, but to hell time. At the moment I am slightly drunk--call it Level 3. I feel brilliant and wild--like a lion--both animal and king.

One Last Bender, Part 2

The sea change makes me nervous so I have taken something to calm me--in fact I've taken two. I have just received a phone call from Natasha--she seemed distant and tried to jack up the price. Some friend! You idiot you did not take your own advice: you must never fall for your whore... My muscles are jelly and I am talking to myself. I have just come home from the park. I cycled along the path and talked to strangers with dogs and abandoned my exquisitely beautiful Merckx racing bike beside the statue of Byron. It was not without sadness and anger that I watched some pimply chav take it, but it was not without a chuckle that I watched him wobble and fall on his face as he left. You idiot it's not a toy; you shan't pop wheelies on that baby. I have not been sleeping well. I shall take a drink and a nap.

Memories of faces keep flashing. I dream of Tanya and she tries to speak to me but I cannot hear her words. She was always rather vacuous, and so was I, but I think a little less than her.

I am in a ridiculous state of mind but I feel today it's necessary. These words seem mad... I have booked the flight and arranged for the animals to be taken to a zoo. Oh yes, and Happy Birthday! Let's have a drink alone! To hell with the nap--I shall stay awake to make the night intenser. Toodaloo for now all ye I have welcomed into my formerly private sphere! I encourage you all, no matter how far away, to have a drink with me now, to share in my euphoria which will inevitably go crashing to the ground.