I WANT A TOMATO TOM

So as I prepared for another wworse than homeless night in a hostel, again frequenting Gloria Jeans, this time armed with a bottle of water and a loaf of Cole’s cheapest white bread, some salami and slices of tasty cheddar I sat from about nine til four trying to find somewhere to live.

Someone called Tom arrived on Facebook chat, I hadn’t seen him in four years but I was pretty desperate so I asked if I could stay at his. He said yeah, not a problem and after a scramble to get his mobile number he rang and invited me to a Jazz festival (not gay slang) and a barbeque that night.

I didn’t make it as far as the Jazz Festival. It wasn’t on, Tom had got the dates wrong and was either two months late or ten months early. We went to the Barbie and had lots of red wine from goons and had a really nice if quiet (due to the smokes) night. Tim, who’s house it was is a really great artist and cartoonist. When I’m rich I’ll buy some of his work. Dan was from Coventry and his six year old boy Manny was really well-trained yet funny. Matt apparently did his normal trick of Houdini’ing into the night unannounced. Not after he walked straight into the wall though! I like those dudes and hope to see them again.

I stayed at Tom’s penthouse apartment in Bondi for four nights, which considering he hadn’t seen me in all that time has elevated him into legendary status in my mind. He is a cool lad, and he too fed and bedded me (definitely not like that!) His flatmates seemed cool, so I officially hope to hang with Tom again of an evening, when I’ve found somewhere to live.