He said he'd worked on 101 Dalmatians, the movie, he'd done some voiceover work. Maybe he'd barked in it or something? He didn't say. He lived in one of those old public housing buildings in Collingwood. It looked twenty storeys high. He left something behind and had to run upstairs to get it. I waited outside. He took me on his motorbike somewhere I can't remember. It was nearly twenty years ago. I just remember that 101 Dalmatians thing. When I think of him it's as if he has white fur with black spots. Somehow we ended up back at my flat and he spent the night in my bed. I didn't really feel like it much with him, something about his teeth was odd, his hair was black and curly and greasy. I told him I just wanted to sleep. But I found out you can't let a stranger into your bed, because they can do strange things to you while you're sleeping. You can wake up with them inside of you, even if you didn't want it. You can ask them 'what the fuck are you doing?' and hopefully they'll stop. Later, you feel like it's your fault, because you let them into your bed. And one day, your kids are watching 101 Dalmatians and you wonder which of those voices is his.
