Thursday, June 16, 2011

Jackson always walks up in dark sunglasses looking dishevelled

It was a glorious morning, the sun was shining down warmly like treacle, even if I was just sorting the bins in the street, it was lovely none the less.

The medium density ring-in neighbours put all their bins out in front of my place, which pisses me off when they could put them a few metres away where there are no house frontages. Call me the bin Nazi if you like..

Take mine, drag the neighbours up-the-lane bins back across the lane, roll of the eyes. To be fair, they've pretty much got it now, not in front of my place, it's just where the garbos left them after emptying them today. But, they still have that habit of leaving them out for a day, or four. See, passive aggression does sometimes works.

My next door neighbour staggers up in dark sunglasses, with the newspaper in his hand, looking dishevelled, but then again, Jackson always looks dishevelled. He either looks like a rock star, or a dero, never sure which. He's like Krammer, smart underneath it all.

"Oh... jee..." Contorted unwrap arm movement, as he looks at the bins. "Christian." Contorted arms wrapped back the other way. "Aren't you like putting them out like a week early, or something?" Arms spread as if as a question.

The original space cadet, the first space captain.

"No Jackson, they've just been emptied, I'm taking them back in."

He stopped, his eyes widened. He looked off into space. He winced. He looked at me, looked at the bin and then looked back at me, as I struggled with the bin.

“Oh... um...er...”

I was lost in my best efforts to get both bins back behind the gate side by side, when I looked up again, he was gone.

Embarrassed? Back to the mull bowl? Who can say?

He’s lovely, really, don’t get me wrong, he’s a character. I like people who are their own person and not beige facsimiles of the everybody else.


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