Friday (Actually, Thursday, But Let's Not Let The Facts Get In The Way Of The Story)

I headed off for my walk early. It looked like it was going to rain when I left the house, no, it was raining just slightly when I left the house, but the sun soon came out.

I zig zag down Gertrude Street crossing over the street and then re-crossing over the street to avoid the milling crowds of the great unwashed around the various coffee bars all waiting for their take away coffee. I often wonder, don’t you people have stoves and coffee pots, but I digress.

So, I’m often walking closely to parked cars as I manoeuvre the street and those within.

There was a Ford Ranger, twin cab ute, used by tradie types, parked in Gertrude Street, with a pair of white and gold board shorts and a pair of black undies still inside the board shorts on the passenger seat still in the shape of the guy who took them off, as though he’d just taken them off moments before standing with the passenger’s door open. I imagined they were still warm.

It bought back those memories of driving down the surf coast on The Great Ocean Road on Xmas holidays and seeing all those surfers bare arsed getting changed into their wetsuits in the morning, or out of their wetsuits in the late afternoon, at the backs of their vans. All those hot boys ran through my mind. Funny the things you think, hey. 

The sun shone and a slight breeze blew. The park was gorgeous. There was a couple walking a couple of wolves. There was a girl who walked passed me on the plaza some ten metres away and I could still smell the strong scent of her perfume. There was a hot boy in tight blue track pants walking his Vizsla, both he and the dog had the same bandy-legged walk as though both their balls were too big for them. The middle aged Chinese ladies were exercising to music in the plaza on the farther side of the museum, a hangover from communist indoctrination, but a healthy one for sure.

I was listening to ABBA’s new album, Voyage, because David insisted that my previous review, “It’s elevator music, luv,” wasn’t adequate enough for his liking. (Still, there’s my sister’s Xmas present sorted. She was an ABBA fan as a girl, yeah sure it’s a stretch but it’s a tick on the Xmas list none the less)

Exercise done, I can spend the rest of the day on the couch with Bruno. Big smile.