The Doghouse

Standing in front of my first home, a one bed/one bath I had been so eager to move into. Moving out of my parents home had been necessary but unsettling at first. It was my first time living alone. When I first moved out, it was to move into a flat with my long term boyfriend, Steve. I had moved back home last year after a break up and it was like stepping back in time. I suddenly had to announce my every coming or going. Had to answer to where I was going, who I was with, where I had been, WHY I was going. It was too much, having to justify every movement. My parents meant well, but I hadn’t lived at home for 2 years prior to this and it was too much. Now, a few months later I had settled into my routine. Learning the noises of the house, how the window creaked as it was opened and how I could feel the draught on my feet if I stood to the left of the kitchen sink. I had dinner with Allie a few nights a week as we both lived alone. I discovered I could hear my neighbours through the wall without too much effort and how if I sat on the top step of the stairs leading down to the garden at the rear of the house then I could easily see into some of my neighbours living rooms. This is my little slice of heaven, right here, on the other side of the door. It’s getting cold standing here. With a sigh, I accept my fate.

I’ve had a long day at work, my feet hurt and I wanted nothing more than to have dinner and spend my evening in the bath or watching TV. Yet standing here on my doorstep, I knew what awaited me on the other side of the front door. Dirty dishes. Laundry needing folded and put away, and the carpet needing hoovered. There’s no way I would be able to relax surrounded by my do-it-later nature. Making sure I had locked my car, I unlock the front door. Stepping in I feel the chill of the change in season fall off me. CRAP! I left the heating on. I could swear it had been summer a few days ago yet it was 7pm, dark and raining. It feels like winter. I takes my shoes and jacket off, setting them to the side before walking into the living room. Yup. There is is. All the laundry waiting to be folded. Last nights dinner plate sat on the coffee table waiting to be washed.

I look around the room, spotting the tasks I knew awaited me. I hate this part of living alone. No help for chores. Why do I find long shifts at work serving people food and drinks all day much easier than the thought of washing my own plate? I head for the kitchen to make myself a coffee. That’ll help me feel more motivated! Choosing a pod, I pop it into the machine and lean back against the counter while it does its thing. I check my phone to see it is now 7:04pm and I have a message from Allie. Smiling, I unlock my phone and open my messages.

Allie: Do you wanna go to the clurrrrrb?

I do. I really, really do. I flick to Spotify and select Unpretty by TLC. It starts over the speaker, and I switch back to my messages to reply to Alice.

“Can’t girl, I’m just home from work and have a lotta housework!”

I close my phone, putting it into my back pocket and start singing along. Dancing around my kitchen waiting on my coffee to finish. I feel my phone vibrate against me.

Allie: C’mon! my treat! I need to get out.

C’mon c’monnnnnn

There’s no fighting it. A perfect opportunity, at the perfect time. Oh well, I tried.

“Where are we going?”

Like I need to ask, knowing full well where this night is headed. I hit send on my reply. Ignoring my now ready coffee, I race upstairs heading to the bathroom. I turn the shower on allowing it to fill the bathroom with steam before I strip off and step in. Before I fully step in, I stop myself. Leaning back, I shout “ALEXA, PLAY ROLLIN’ BY LIMP BIZKIT”.

The chorus is kicking in as I pick up the conditioner bottle. Using it like a mic I sing along while dancing as much as my fear of slipping in the bath tub allows me to.

“I move in, now move out. Hands up, hands down. Back up, back up. Tell me whatchu gonna do now”

“Keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’.”

“Cause if you don’t care then we don’t care.”

Rolling my shoulders and hips, putting my hands up and down in time with the lyrics. My feet firmly planted, not allowing myself to get too carried away.

My phone lights up with a reply from Allie. Shit, I cant see. I return my head under the water, allowing it to wash the conditioner from my hair. Wiping water from my eyes, I peek at my phone again, tapping the screen with a wet finger. Just as I thought;

Allie: “Doghouse, lets see if we can bring any puppies home! Woof!”

Laughing, I return my body under the warm water and start to lather it up. I stand under the shower for a few minutes letting the suds rinse away and the stress of my day wash off me.

Once my hands are dry I pick up the phone to message Allie back.

“Woof woof! Perfect, just out the shower. I’ll head to yours soon!”

Picking up the towel from the hook on the back of the door, I wrap it around myself and grab another smaller one for my hair. I head out towards my bedroom, music still blasting from my speaker. The Doghouse was a local alternative/metal club. It was the only one near us. There was a few pubs that catered to our scene, but for a proper night out there was only one destination and that was the Doghouse. Allie and I have been friends for years, so it came as no surprise that’s where she wanted to go. I had went to primary school with her younger brother while she was only two years older than I was. We properly met once I’d entered my teenage years and started high school. Her brother, Logan, had went to the same high school as Allie in the town over, while I went to our local high school on the other side of our town. I though of how I hadn’t seen Logan in years, with the last time being at Allie’s 21st birthday, 6 years ago. I wondered what he was like now...Logan kept a low profile on social media so no amount of stalking helped me satisfy my curiosity. The last time I had seen him, he hardly spoke to me. Allies birthday party had been in her mums house. Her mum in the house so it couldn’t become an out of control house party. It was relatively tame but there were people in nearly every room having their own mini parties. Logan stayed in the living room, staying by the music controls he played tune after tune and kept the party flowing. He was quiet and didn’t say much when I said hello. We weren’t strangers. I had spent hours at his house and slept over countless times. Yet, he hardly ever spoke to me. Instead, every time he seen me he stopped talking as if waiting for me to leave. Teenagers by My Chemical Romance starts blaring, breaking my thought process. I leap into action combing through my dripping wet hair, ready to blow dry it. At least my body has air dried.

Drying my hair drowns out the thump of my music. Finally my long thick hair is dry. I could use another shower from the effort doing my hair takes. I set up my straighteners and pull out my make up bag. While my straighteners heat up, I open my underwear drawer looking for the black lace I love so much. Rummaging through my drawer I’m met with all the underwear I try not to wear, but keep “just in case”. Ugh. Where is it? THE LAUNDRY! I fly downstairs, grabbing my towel tight to keep myself covered, and find the bra amongst the clean clothes that taunt me. I cannot find the shorts to match...I leave a bigger mess than I came home to and return upstairs before it bothers me too much.

I do my make up, settling on a dark winged eyeliner and matte red lip look. I straighten my hair, deciding to leave half tied up into two space buns. I need jewellery. Freak on a leash by KoRn starts playing giving me inspiration. I look in my drawers for a black leather choker, smiling when I find it. The choker holds a lot of memories, going to the Doghouse wearing it feels a bit tongue in cheek. The last time I wore this I was the one on the leash being a little freaky. Smirking at myself I put it on, I look at myself in the mirror admiring my handiwork. Not bad Lola, not bad. Grunge vampire-chic really is the look for me. CLOTHES! I put my bra on thinking about my missing underwear. I don’t want to wear anything I have, and I can’t find the only ones I want to wear...no underwear it is. Laughing to myself, no one can know my secret. I’ll need to be careful about what I get up to. This could end in disaster. I pull on ripped black fish net tights and a dangerously short black tube skirt, then select an oversized band t-shirt, tying it to one side exposing a little bit of skin on my stomach. Looking at myself, sizing up how I look in the mirror. I’ve worked hard to be happy within my own skin. Steve had destroyed my confidence and learning to love my body for what I have is a constant battle. Trying to avoid looking at myself and finding faults, I focus on the things I love. I look at my curves, and the way my clothing hugs certain points on my body. I enjoy how comfortable I look within my own skin. I’m glad I agreed to go out. Deciding against a jacket I find my phone and pull it out to message Allie.

“Shoes and then I’m OMW! Leaving my car at yours, do you have beers or will I grab some?”

Allie: “I’ve got em chilling, hurry up!”

I pull on sports socks over my tights and slip my feet into some platformed boots. I could never wear this with Steve. I am thankful at how things have turned out. I feel more like myself than I ever have, I love how I look, I’m excited and feeling eternally grateful for a friend like Allie. Turning the music off from my phone, I grab my bag and head out the door. Feeling the rush of cold air, I’m quickly reminded about my little secret. I shudder and head towards the car. It’s 8:13pm.