It's that thing when you slide back into the room hoping no one noticed how long you had been in the bathroom, and your right leg is completely DEAD so you walk so slowly, admiring fucking everything in detail, nodding like a Pope, praying you don't collapse in a heap, destroying your fibula and varnishing the leg of the antique mantelpiece with your gelled head of hair.
"Where have you been?"
"Outside ... needed some AIR!"
"I missed you, and I don't even really like you - that's how long you were..."
"Can you, perhaps, keep it down? Everyone is staring."
"PSSSSSSST!" It was Hutch. "Jonas come next door! We have unlimited supplies of gin and a German globe for light!"
"Hutch I'll be with you in a sec ... right leg is ... deader than HELL!"
"Right-o, I'll save you a space under Tasmania!"
E continued,"what were you doing J? You were gone for an age. I had to make excuses, lies and tales of nonsense. Like you on a daily basis."
"I've discovered my 'patoullie' E," I tell her. "And it turns out it's all mine!"
She scoffs and turns back to our hosts. I grit my teeth and drag my leg through to the globe room.
* * *