Bobby Miller

The Bachelor
© Bobby Miller

I’ve got some real fantastic news though I say with tongue in cheek that,
the wife has gone off visiting.., to her mother s for a week.
I remembered many years ago with a wretched little smile
the lifestyle of a bachelor I could handle for a while.
With subtle joy I took her in to catch the Greyhound bus
a week to test my manhood should be good for both of us.
I would again be master... no more pick up this and that
my dog could come inside again while outside goes her cat.

So I stopped to get some shopping cause I probably needed some
just a dozen crates of fourex and a cask of Bundy rum.
I could sit and watch the footy, with no whingin’  any more
discarding empty tinnies all around the lounge room floor.
I could eat meat pies and pizzas. No more vegies would I need
and I’ d use me grimy fingers when I stopped to take a feed.
Yes, this week would be like heaven everything would go to plan
‘cause a women s not essential... for survival of a man.

I rang around some mates I knew who were all single blokes
said "Come and watch the footy, have a beer and tell some jokes.
I’m batchin’  mate," I told them," everything’ll be all right
if ya’  get too flamin’  sozzled ya’  can camp the flamin’  night.
" So Jim and Blue and Murray settled round the lounge room floor
like a mob of naughty school boys we all drank and smoked and swore
but the booze was acting swiftly as I strained to stay erect
and it seemed to go unnoticed that my home was being wrecked.

See, Blue had burnt the carpet with his bumpers all around
Murray chundered in the fish tank now they floated upside down
and Jim had fallen badly from the table as he danced,
in a tangled mess he flattened, all her lovely indoor plants.
I thanked the boys for coming as they staggered home next day
the lounge room was demolished and the beds in disarray
but it s easy doing housework as (I hunted out the cat).
I could vacuum up the evidence in fifteen minutes flat.

I dragged the vacuum floorward from it’s perch upon the shelf
but I found it simpler watching than to use the thing yourself
and then I instantly decided that I’d have to clean it out,
first a doily, then some ornaments, swiftly vanished up the spout.
So I took the hose and handle off and pulled the thing apart
but I must have bumped the switch on cause I heard the motor start.
It was programmed for re-cycle or some such mode I think
‘cause it blasted soot and rubbish from the front door to the sink.

Well, it took all night and one more day to renovate that room
and now I know why Granny, only used a bloody broom.
Then I thought I’d do some washing as me socks were on the nose
our machine is automatic... should be simple, I suppose,
But I wasn’t sure on cycles or on levels, rinse or spin
so I got me socks and threw a box of washing powder in.
A half an hour later when I checked me eyes were reeling
I m sure she will be grateful that I’ve shampooed half the ceiling.

Now my health is slowly fading, it may be the booze I fear,
‘cause me staple diet lately has been toast and cans of beer.
Every morning when I wake up with this headache I deplore
I conclude it’s dehydration.. .so I have to start once more.
I’m just a broken hollow shell of what I was last week
if she says do this and that again well I won t be givin’  cheek.
I’ll remember long the misery the hunger and the pain
and I hope it’s twenty bloody years, before she goes again.

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