Windy Tuesday

The wind was fantastic, this morning, it blew strong and hard. It makes me feel alive when it blows as strongly as that. The power is fantastic, the motion is exhilarating. I love leaning into it and being held up, as if by magic.

I waited for a second tram, as the first one that slid by was full and I was feeling particularly lazy, not wanting to stand. Gusts buffeted me this way and that, as I observed Gertrude Street up and down. Trams can some times come one straight after another, I was hoping for that. It didn't come that quickly, but quickly enough. Just after I'd given up and had started walking toward the CBD. I only got to the other side of Napier Street, by the time I saw the boom appear just below the power lines, down at Smith Street.

It was still pretty full and as I got on at the front, I had to make my way down the car to the machine.

"Jees, dude," said one chick, who was standing right in the middle of the carriage and by who I had to push, because that's what one does on public transport, apparently. Well, she wasn't making any signs of moving. I pushed passed her with no apology and shoved her out of my way, as I listened to her pathetic whine.

Well, get out of my way then.

Two old chicks sat opposite the ticket machine who gabbed on together about some insurance claim one of them had something to do with. "He did the right thing, he did the wrong thing, my snatch is old and grey because of him... " I couldn't stand by the two of them for too long, old Nasal Nelly and Menopausal Henna.

"Oh yes. Yes. Yes. Yes." Each "yes" sounded like a door closing on an unoiled hinge.

I could still hear their nasal whine when I was in the next compartment.

Luberlips was on the tram with his girlfriend. I don't know if everyone has a person who makes their skin crawl, but I do and I see him on the 86 tram from time to time. He gets on with his girlfriend, who looks like a rather agricultural version of Sigourney Weaver. I think he might be part fish; same small eyes on either side of his head, same mouth opening for air, same hue to his scales across his prominent forehead. He has a mouth like a cats arse, eyes like a pig and lips like every open-shirt, gold-chain bejewelled uncle you have ever come across.

So of course, as soon as nerdy boy put his game boy back into his back pack, next to his lap top and his copy of Hustler and got off, Lubo Boy and Ripley took the chance to sit opposite me, just as a taunt. They only did kissy faces for a split second, thank fuck.

What you resist persists, hey?

There was a fat blond chick, with her hair pulled into an unbecoming pig tail, in a black cardigan covered in dandruff, who must have called everyone she knew in the short time she was on. I don't reckon she was talking to anyone, just pretending to punch the buttons, to make her truly unremarkable self feel/look better, as though she, actually, had some friends.

I try to act small on the tram.

There was a boy who smelt like Brut 33, as I was getting off, with his carefully shaved gottee and his round arse. He must have been about twenty. He smelt like he would never be up wind of any one, for any period of time, without killing them. Did he have a whole bottle splashed over him?

Boy was it strong. I thanked the universe for the fresh air.