Lunch In The Burbs

Mum and I headed up to the Camberwell shops for lunch. There were cars every where, in the big car park, all trying to out do each other for the next car spot. Rat-faced bitches behind each steering wheel ready to kill, if you even looked like you were going to pinch their spots. They had no problem blocking the entire roadway if it meant guaranteeing their place. Invariably, in huge four wheel drives - urban tanks to keep the scared safe - they can barely drive, let alone park. I'm alright Jack and fuck you is what those cars say, as they do 12 point turns to park them, as cars gather in either direction.

We eventually parked under Safeway, where there were plenty of car parks, as it turned out. No one was venturing underground, clearly. We walked back through the asphalt maze to the rear of the shops on Burke Road, to a preferred cafe.

I stepped up onto the footpath.

"Are you quite right now, you sooky la la?" said the guy walking towards me, some what aggressively.

Huh? I thought. Who, me?

"Are you, you big sook?"

Ah, the guy from the Ford Focus? I thought. He must have found a car park without, actually, causing an accident, I presumed. Amazing.

"So, are you right? Now?" he asked.

Oh, you're not the buttoned down, cardigan wearing Christian that I thought you were? He looked quite wimpy when he couldn't wind down his car window, instead settling to say dick head through a one inch crack, as his car careered back onto the correct side of the road.

"Over your sooky out burst? Huh?"

Quite masculine, really. Who'd have thought. Slightly too fat a neck squeezed behind his tie knot, though. I turned on my heal, as he walked by. Kind a cute, really. Being quite aggressive, though. Small cock, I presumed.

"You sooky fucken la la!"

Sooky fucken la la... is this primary school? Did I insult his masculinity, as I left him in my wake, as he strained his face through the window crack? I suppressed my urge to laugh. I didn't think that would serve me well, right at that point.

"You sooky fucken cunt!" He was now walking ahead, but looking back at me.

He'd turned the corner of the car park too wide and ended up on my side of the roadway, blocking my path. I told him to learn to drive, rather, I yelled it through my, already, open window. Did you get your straight boy ego all bent out of shape with that?

"You haven't got so much to say now, have you?" he continued.

I wanted to say, You know mate, I don't really care if you live or die, actually. I opened and closed my mouth. The words wouldn't come, I almost felt foolish, but my still small voice was saying don't even engage him. We held each other's gaze. Why waste my breath, I thought, as he walked straight into a power pole, right on the edge of the footpath. I could see it coming. I thought he'd see it before he hit it, not for a minute thinking that I'd, actually, be that lucky. His head made a hollow thud, against the wooden pole. It was a complete cliche, which seemed fitting, as he was a complete cliche. Maybe there is a fucken god?

I suppressed my urge to laugh, again, as I turned back to my mother. Oh, I should have laughed, laughed right out loud.

"Who's that, darling?" she asked, bewilderedly. But then, now a days, she asks everything bewilderedly.

"Nobody mum," I said. "Just another waste of space."

"Oh, okay dear," she said. She smiled lovingly, like a mother does.

"Watch your step," I said. I'm not sure to who, though.