Tuesday, March 28, 2006

No time to eat.sleep

Whoah! Gainfully employed- I didn’t see that happening. Yep, I gots me a job. I whish someone warned me before I even applied. How did I not know full-time work was worse than full-time unemployment?

I’m catching the bus every day. I’ve made a friend (see artist’s impression). He’s teaching me about life. He’s seen it all. I’m not actually sure what his name is. Anyway the dudes really wired into what’s really going on in Booragoon, scratch the middle class soapy exterior and you’ll find some super dark (think triple espresso) scandals, hoo yeah.

Firstly, our bus stop is across the road from a small set of apartments- you know the type: one up, one down, 1970’s ‘villa’, washed out dreams and ambi-pur air freshners. Well my friend and I are waiting for our bus and he’s teaching me about “what’s really going on”.
An ordinary woman walks from the apartments towards the bus stop.

“Don’t talk to this woman”, my friend says. “She’s a real like loser, real scum of the earth type of character.”
Hmmm, me thinks. She looks like an ordinary, every day, run of the mill, average, normal human female with aspirations and morals not unlike my own.
“Her boyfriend’s really bad news, a real measly character”, says my friend. “You get all types round here. They love it in there, rent is sixty dollars a week, yeah there’s a lot of measly characters around here. They’re making speed in there, you know what speed is?”
I nod. I know and I ain’t talking about the velocity encountered from riding down the biggest (well nearly the biggest) hill in Boora on the back of my girlfriend’s Malvern Star.
“Yeah, they’ve got a pump from a swimming pool. They pump chemicals over the fence into their friends house. Look there’s an undercover cop car, and look there’s another one.”
Ok, so first car is white sedan. It is possible that this could be an under cover poh lice vehicle but the other one is a blue Barina with dents. Either the police force is using Barinas for their low fuel consumption or the police are trying to pose as seventeen year old girls that work at Chicken Treat, drink Breezers, and go out with boiler maker apprentices called Fitzy.

“And look there’s a man hiding behind that tree.” The tree was about 1/2 a metre tall and skinny. Obviously the man was a shape shifter. There’s a lot of them. One of them pee’s on the floor at my house and makes my girlfriend yell at me.

My friend then told me that another woman at the bus stop used to be real fat but then she went to the fat fighters down the road. “I really need to lose some weight” he said. I’d agree. His belly hung over his belt and he seemed to sweat quite a bit. “You could do with losing a few kilo’s as well” he said to me. That’s when I worked out the guy was a liar.

On the trip he pointed to some pine trees and told me they were marijuana plants. Someone once put weed in his beer. He knows people that make some beautiful smelling soaps, he washes himself with them. He asked a girl to sniff him but she declined.
Last night I graduated. I wore the worst colour maroon you’ve ever seen. I looked like a pasty monk, spent the night before and that day chucking. I think I ate some dodgy chicken. Nice.

No comments: