Mug shot – Wayne 2

Wayne had never ‘gone for a run’ before. But then there were a lot of things that he’d never gone for before, and even more things that, now he thought about them, were actually impossible to go for. 

He thought about his last live music performance and how he couldn’t do that any more and then remembered that no one else was able to perform anything either. Yeah you could mug something in front of your laptop camera – if you knew how to do that – but it wasn’t the same as an arena or stadium. Or even one of the smaller venues to be honest. He thought about the last great meal he’d had in a great restaurant and then realised that restaurant wasn’t open, no one was dining there or anywhere. All those chefs, waiters, cocktail mixers, bouncers, security people, cloakroom assistants… No one doing anything anywhere. Whatever he thought of, it was’t there any more, like he had the power of thinking people and stuff out of existence.

But if thought was one things, words were another. In his sport, words meant stuff. You could actually bring things to reality, make stuff happen and make other people believe. If you used the right words. That was pretty much all he had now. That and a sleek smart phone that should provide the key to everything.

The cup of tea he made didn’t taste that great, but it looked good so he took a shot of it, filtered it nicely and, admittedly 79 minutes later, he got it on to his Instagram account. He rewarded himself with a better tasting instant coffee, adding the consolation that at least 23 of those 79 minutes had been spent waiting for one of his PA’s to text him the password to the Instagram account. It arrived together with the rather barbed message: ‘Don’t post anything we wouldn’t’. A bizarre state of affairs, reflected Wayne, given that this was actually his account.

The second entry took him only 17 minutes to post and was of the empty coffee mug. This time he tagged it #satisfaction.

Such was his elation at completing this task that he flicked through Spotify and played his most recent track super-loud through the bluetooth configuration. Sound ricocheted round his modern minimally furnished flat, a couple of the pieces of artworks from what he’d been assured were up-and-coming graffiti artists vibrated gently against the plain off-white breeze block walls. Yes! Whatever success he had he would celebrate in style, whether it was a music award or just posting a picture of a coffee mug on Instagram, it was all success, everything completed was now a success.

When he came down from his blast the person in the flat downstairs was banging on their ceiling/his floor. It was a reassuring noise. At least some things hadn’t changed. His downstairs neighbour was still alive and still very much annoyed that all the money he’d taken from corporate finance hadn’t bought him a peaceful luxury flat, just one which some chancer with a few good beats and words could get his hands on too.

Wayne was on a roll now, he could conquer the world (again) and decided he would indeed go for a run. Trouble was, what would he wear? He was sure there was some sports gear somewhere about his flat, but he didn’t know if it was actually stylish enough for him to be seen out in, or come to that, dead in.

Nearly two hours later he had found what he was looking for. He still had the impetus to do the run (buoyed up by a quick stiff drink or two which he told himself he deserved and wouldn’t impair his athletic performance) and thought he looked good enough for selfie purposes too, so swiftly attached the stick to the camera and after another 40 minutes he managed to get a pic of himself up on the account too.

Now riding high on his own wave of purpose and achievement, Wayne bowled out the door.

He wouldn’t realise until later that he had left without pocketing his key, and wasn’t even prompted to that realisation by the noise of the door closing on the lock behind him. The run also meant he’d be delayed in discovering the comments and hashtags that were beginning to build up behind his recent posts. He wouldn’t see until later the one that ridiculed his choice of mug or noted that the one he photographed filled with tea wasn’t the one he’d emptied of coffee. The comment that cast doubt on his running prowess given that the last time this follower saw his do a gig he seemed unable to move his body for longer than three minutes in a row.

And his stable mates, BarnStormerz would have to wait a little while longer to see if ManzDown could actually come up with a witty response to their observation that his current attire made him look like some second rate PE teacher who’d only know Grime if it came off the football pitch and smacked him in the face.