Awkward Conversations with Animals I've F*cked

Rob Hayes

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781783196609
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Arte dramático británico

One-night stands are awkward. One-night stands with animals are more awkward. And when you're as desperate to please as Bobby, things get awkward as f*ck. He's just a guy with too much love to give, and a burning desire to give it to consensual adult mammals.

PART ONE

DOG

A ground floor bedsit.

BOBBY sits on the bed, dressed in vest and underpants.

A dog also sits on the bed.

BOBBY’s playing with a dog collar. He tries to put it round his own neck. It won’t fit. Finally he puts it down on the bed and sighs.

BOBBY: Are we cool?

No I mean – I dunno. You’ve kind of been a bit quiet for the past…little while.

He shrugs.

You’re probably tired, or – we didn’t really sleep last night I guess. Think I got like… two hours. Two, three hours. Wide awake now though. Weird. I’m usually so tired in the morning. Then you stay up all night, and…

You were amazing. You were – you’re amazing.

He moves to touch the dog, pulls away. Reconsiders his approach.

I mean I’m by no means an expert, but – I don’t really have anything to compare it to, if I’m being totally – but that shouldn’t take anything away from – you know it really was…

He huffs out his cheeks.

Dogs. Who knew? Man’s best friend with benefits. Sorry, rude. Stupid comment.

I don’t want to be one of those people who say stuff that to them sounds totally fine but in forty years turns out to be like really not cool. Like it’s fine to say ‘making love to a dog is quite weird’ now. But our children’s generation might be all like ‘that’s racist’. Maybe not your children’s generation because that could be in like a year.

Thorny issue.

My granddad was a bit like that with gay people. And black people. And women. My dad would be like, he’s older, show him respect. He’s got more experience than you. Don’t question him. And stop crying. You don’t cry because someone’s said a rude word.

His phone rings. He immediately rejects the call.

But yeah, I don’t know if you’re always that, you know – because we’ve been brought up to understand that you guys have like, a default position. But… well, you put that rumour to bed. The fact we were even in a bed…

They say dogs will do anything to please their owners, right? Well that’s – that’s –

He grins, then stops himself.

No wait. I’m not saying I’m your owner, or that you have an owner. Oh god, that’s – that is – I would never claim to own you in any way. You’re a liberated individual and this is a free country. And thank god, you know? Because look at…

Libya? Is it Libya? With all the…

BOBBY thinks for a second.

But yeah, you are a free dog. And just because we did – what we did, that does not give me any right to possession. You can do whatever you want. You can leave, or stay – not as in ‘stay!’, but – cos that would be –

Do you want some breakfast? Sorry I didn’t even – I’ve got eggs. Bit of muesli I think. It’s old but I’m pretty sure oats are like apocalypse food. That’s what my dad called them. Used to scare the hell out of me, I had no idea what he was talking about. But now I think it just means it’s one of the things you could live on. In the event of…

He goes to stroke the dog again. Stops himself.

I might have a cup of tea. Can I interest you in a bowl of room-temperature water?

He puts the kettle on and fixes a bowl of water, which he puts on the floor.

He waits to see if the dog will come and drink it. The dog doesn’t move.

He tries tentatively to whistle her over. She doesn’t move. He tries again. No response. On the third attempt he segues into a regular tuneless whistle, suddenly embarrassed by his apparent faux-pas.

Oh, and if you want to…uh, go…at any point, just… I don’t know, bark. I have plastic bags – okay that’s come out all weird. I’m not, like, into it or anything. I don’t want to watch or anything. I just don’t want you sitting there all uncomfortable, just thinking – so yeah just bark or whatever.

This is a minefield…

The phone rings again. He runs over and rejects the call.

Sorry about that. Outside world! Ahhh! Direct sunlight! I’m a vampire! Leave me alone!

The phone rings again in his hand. He rejects the call.

Leave me alone.

Friend from last night. Well. ‘Friend’.

No she’s cool. Bit odd. We’re only friends because she felt sorry for me. Ever since we were in year 9 and I didn’t know what a reach-around was. And then Kevin Dexter was all like ‘oh, have you ever given Barney Hannick a reach-around?’ And I thought it was some cool drugs thing, you know? So I was like ‘oh yeah, I’ve given Barney a reach-around. Loads of times’.

Yeah, so that started a rumour which didn’t really do me any favours. And then she started talking to me because at the time she was like rejecting ‘cool’ people in favour of spending time with people who were a bit weird.

So there was a girl from, like, Somalia. And there was this guy who had to take all his maths and science classes with the year below. And he used to dig around in his bumhole then find a reason to put his fingers near his nose when he thought no one was looking. But yeah, before that she didn’t even know I existed. Then she was suddenly my best mate.

And then the next year she’d pretty much grown out of it. I guess she felt bad about the idea of just starting to ignore us all over again. She’d sort of hang out with us for like ten minutes a day. Like in the corridor when no one was a...