Two Nice Girls is a lesbian duo from Sydney. This is a very obscure underground piece of music that I will be surprised if anyone on this list has heard. An amusing ditty, to say the least.
by
Carol Trendall
Life was so much simpler when
I was sober and queer
But the love of a strong hairy
man has turned my head around Two Nice Girls
Inside
the bar the stench of unwashed bodies and stale beer hit Ray like a wall. Resisting the urge to cover his nose
with a handkerchief, he affected his best tough guy stance and swaggered
between tables of heavily tattooed and pierced men and a few women to
finally reach the bar. The paunchy
barkeeper met his eye and shuffled to meet him.
"What'll
it be?" he huffed out, stale breath making Ray's nose wrinkle in
distaste.
"I
... ah, I'm looking for a woman."
"Aren't
we all?"
Ray
rolled his eyes. "You're
a riot. I'm looking for a woman,
about this high ..." he indicated Inspector Thatcher's approximate
height, "dark hair, Canadian ... she called me and said she was
here."
The
barkeeper's face twisted in a smug grin, his chubby cheeks pushing up
into little red balls. "Yeah,
I know the one ... the Mountie ... " his voice dropped to a level
that reminded Ray of a pimp, "she's been keeping everyone ... entertained
... "
For
reasons he could not explain and didn't want to examine too closely,
a sudden wave of protectiveness came over Ray. With the speed and dexterity of a gunfighter from an old
western he pulled his badge from his pocket and pushed it into the barkeeper's
face.
"Just
tell me where the fuck she is," he growled in a voice that came
out far more menacing than he had intended.
The
barkeeper wasn't very fond of cops, so he shut his mouth and jerked a
thumb over his shoulder in the direction of a row of booths. Without thanking him, Ray moved off
in the direction he indicated.
He
found Meg in the end booth nursing a near empty glass of something amber
coloured.
"Detective
Kowalski," she acknowledged fuzzily as he slid onto the seat opposite
her.
"You're
drunk," he said, somewhat unnecessarily.
"You're
observant, Kowalski, I guess that's why you're a detective." She tipped back her head and drained
her glass then fixed him with her glazed eyes and drawled in a voice
that was meant to sound sexy, "You going to buy me a drink?"
"You
called me and asked me to drive you home and that's why I'm here. Besides, it looks like you've had more
than your limit tonight anyway."
"Ooh,
so uptight ... " Meg taunted as she signaled to the barkeeper for
another drink. "Looks like
you've been spending too much time with Fraser."
Ray
cancelled the drink order with a withering glance at the rotund barkeep. "Look, I drove all this way down
here cause you said you needed a ride home. I thought you might be in trouble. If you're just going to sit here and get stinking drunk,
I got better things to do."
Meg
looked at him through lowered lashes and said nothing.
"And
anyways, why did you call me? Why
not Fraser?"
At
the mention of her subordinate's name, she looked abashed. "You know, Kowalski, Fraser and
I ... we nearly ... "
Ray
rolled his eyes and looked around the room, avoiding looking at the drunken
woman across from him.
"No,
I didn't know and it's more information than I wanted about ... about
your ... Why didn't you call a cab?"
"Can't,"
Meg said, demurely, not looking at Ray.
"Why
can't you? You got a cell phone."
"No
money."
"So
what the fuck are you doing here with no money?" He waved a hand at their squalid surroundings. "What are you doing here at all?"
"I
wanted to ... to ... meet ... a ... men ... I wanted to meet men."
"Christ,
Thatcher, if you want to get laid there's better places than this."
She
gave him a look that he couldn't decipher, but remained silent. After a moment, Ray shook his head
and stood.
"I'll
drive you home," he said, reaching out to help her from the booth.
It
wasn't until he helped Meg to her feet that Ray saw the tiny black dress
she wore. Seated and in the dark
he had been dimly aware that she was dressed in something black, but
until she stood he didn't realise how small that something was. He muttered a curse and slipped his
leather jacket around her shoulders, then guided her through the bar
to his GTO outside.
Ray
manhandled Meg into his car, trying not to notice when her dress rode
up to reveal the scrap of black lace masquerading as panties. Leaning over the inebriated Inspector,
Ray buckled her seat belt and then closed the passenger door. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath
before moving to the driver's side, wondering why he let himself get
sucked into this rescue mission.
By
the time they arrived at Meg's apartment block, she was getting a little
cantankerous. When the GTO pulled
to a halt, she opened the door and promptly fell onto the sidewalk. Ray muttered a curse and shot from
his seat, rounding the front of the car as Meg staggered to her feet,
wobbling on her stiletto heels.
"I'm
OK," she told the detective as he put out a hand to steady her.
Ray
held up his hands in surrender and let her stagger across the sidewalk
on her own. Leaning against his
car, he watched as she propped herself against the front of the building
and began searching for her keys.
Meg
rummaged in her small black purse, frowning. "I know they're in here somewhere."
Pushing
off the GTO, Ray crossed the sidewalk and stood in front of her. In an attempt to help, he grabbed the
purse. "Here, let me."
But
Meg wouldn't let go. She pulled
it free from Ray's fingers, the resultant jerk spilling the contents
all over the step.
Ray
watched in horror as several condoms fell to the ground, their bright
cellophane wrappers cheerful against the dirty stone step. Meg giggled.
Dropping
to his knees, Ray hastily swept up the condoms and deposited them into
Meg's outstretched purse, noting that the selection was in all the colours
of the rainbow.
"Sheesh,
Thatcher, looks like you meant business tonight."
She
giggled again. "That's where
my cab fare went. They had this
machine in the bathroom ... put my last ten dollars in it."
Scowling
and embarrassed, Ray grabbed the keys and rose. "Like I said before, more information than I really
wanted."
He
opened the door and let Meg inside. Following
her into the unfamiliar house, he waited until she flicked on a light.
"You
going to be OK? Need anything?"
"I'm
fine, Kowalski. Thanks."
"Yeah,
well next time you want to get laid, make sure you got cab fare and don't
call me if you don't."
Without waiting for a response, Ray turned to leave, reaching the front
door in three steps
Behind
him, Meg scowled and flopped onto the sofa.
"Oh
god, this was much easier when I dated women and didn't drink."
Ray
stopped, his hand on the doorknob. "What?"
"You
heard me."
Suddenly
wondering how drunk Thatcher really was, he turned and faced her. "You
dated women?"
Her
only reply was a strange smile.
Tucking
his hands into his pockets, he shuffled his weight from one foot to the
other. "So what was tonight
about? What were you doing in
that bar trying to pick up guys? And
you said you and Fraser ... what about that?"
Meg
smiled again and kicked off her shoes before answering. "Let's just say that my experience
with Fraser led me to believe there might be more to this heterosexual
... thing."
"What,
one big strong handsome guy and you ... you ... "
"Let's
just say he turned my head around."
Ray
had no answer to that. He stared
at the woman on the sofa, realising that she had dropped into instant
sleep as he watched. With a final
shake of his head, he opened the door and stepped out into the late night
air, Thatcher's last words repeating in his head.
Copyright
October 2000
Comments
welcome at mullum@tig.com.au