I had a dream about George Michael from Wham! and we were having sex. This was fine — well, maybe not, I mean, I had a sex dream about George Michael from Wham! But anyway. It would have been fine except I told Laurie about it. Of course I swore her to secrecy and she swore she wouldn’t say a word, but then she got drunk and she did and now I’m in the little room fuming and listening to Joy Division. I stocked up on cigarettes and magazines and snacks on the way home. I can never, ever, leave this room.
Laurie told Andrea and Andrea told everybody else and pretty soon the world knew all about my weird George Michael sex dream. The worst is that now they all think I listen to Wham! which I don’t — not anymore, not since Wake Me Up Before You Go Go went Top 40. Young Guns and Wham Rap and still on a mix tape somewhere around here but that won’t be a problem since I’m never, ever leaving this room and I’m certainly never, ever speaking to Laurie.
The whole thing really pisses me off. Especially because Laurie totally, secretly, thinks that she’s going to marry John Taylor from Duran Duran and then get the band to make better music again, like Girls on Film. She’s completely delusional, but I’m not going to tell anybody about it. I mean, I told Kevin, but it’s not like he’s going to say anything.
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Photograph by Brian Aris/Outline Press
Welcome to the Little Room is a series of 250-word re-imagined vignettes from my ’80s youth with a focus on music and style. It appears weekly on periodicult.com.
Laurie is such a 1983 name