Ha ha. It is funny because it is true. I play along because it is easier.
I found another of those awful introduced Black Bird’s nests in the creeper on my side brick wall and destroyed it. The two Black Birds were very unhappy about it. They suddenly flew in and chirp, chirp, chirped at me. Fuck them! I don’t want any more of them scratching the mulch out of my garden onto the paving in the back yard. They chirp, chirp, chirped, in fact, they were still chirping when we left the house. Too bad! So sad! Don’t mess with an Apex Predator, I thought.
I laughed at the thought. It is funny because it is true.
We headed out to Carnival, after David called saying he’d be there in 20 minutes. We ate burritos in Gertrude Street first up, as we hadn’t eaten lunch. I was happy to eat at the carnival, but Sam insisted we ate first. So, we ate at the skate park café in Gertrude Street.
We were meant to meet David, you know, 20 minutes, or so, after we left the house, but in usual David style he was late. He called just after we got to the carnival and, apparently, they were in Domain Road parking the car, which, apparently, took 2 hours.
We saw (my ex) Lauri and his new boyfriend, Leroy, first up. Lauri looked fine, but he said he has new lumps on his neck, which are freaking him out. (He has been battling lymphoma for 5 years) I could see the lumps after he’d mentioned them. There is no surprise they are freaking him out, as this is the final treatment he can have, if this doesn’t work there is nothing else, the cancer wins and he dies.
Sam told me off for smoking in front of Lauri, as we walked away.
Oh yes, smoking. We went to Rachel’s last night and there were smokers, so I went to the shop and bought a packet. Weak as piss? Only if I continue smoking after I have finished this packet.
The carnival was really crowded, the footpaths were full. There were people with their dogs, (We took Buddy a few years ago, but he freaked out with all of the people) I wondered about the safety of a couple of small dachshunds as they weaved between people’s feet. We wandered around. People smiled, people laughed, people met up with friends. There were a few hotties, but not so many, not really. There was the big muscular wog boy dressed in just black undies, but he was verging on fat, sexy fat to be sure. There were a couple of guys in very little, but for the most part they looked like try-hards, not that I want to pass judgement on anyone, wear what you like, that is what it is all about after all. A few of the shirtless boys dressed just in jeans were sexy, but that is my favourite look on a guy, jeans and a bare torso. And, of course, a few handsome faces, completely clothed, the bodies, not the faces. Cute couples holding hands, cute couples dressed alike, gay and straight. People in costumes. People smiling. A good time being had by all.
We wandered around. We battled the crowds. We filled in a sex survey. We ate chuppa chups, which were the reward for doing the sex survey. We ate free ice creams we got from the Coles stand. We saw (Sam’s ex) Brian and his new boyfriend, Mark. Mark has something to do with Coles and he prattled on about the free ice creams, none of which I really followed, I have to admit. Blah, blah, blah.
We looked at the stalls, they seemed the same as all the previous years. Same, same, but still interesting. That is what you do, after all, that is all a part of it.
We sat on the edge of the path just away from the main “goings on” on the grass in the shade when our backs got tired, and watched the people go buy. Still no sign of David and Torben. I can watch the passing parade for hours quite happily.
Then Sam wanted a massage, as his back was hurting him.
“Why can’t you have a massage another day? Why today?” I asked.
He said it was difficult now as he doesn’t work in the CBD any longer.
“What do you want to do?” Sam said.
“I thought you wanted to have a massage?” I said.
“I do,” said Sam.
“Okay then,” I said.
“I have to call and book.” Which he did, for 5pm.
We were standing by the portable loos, which were lined up like pale blue Daleks. Sentries around the edge of the gardens. Still. Silent. Except for the one in the middle, which was rocking backwards and forwards. Ah, the old days, I thought. It reminded me of going to dance parties in the 90’s.
We headed off towards the city around 4.15pm, after much humming and ha’ing. Just as we were leaving the park, David called, at 4.22pm (I checked my phone) to say he was finally at the bar at the carnival, but we’d made up our minds to leave by then. I told David we were heading into the city to get something to eat, which we were, that and the massage, which I didn’t mention.
“Come and eat here, at the bar,” said David. “There is food here.”
“Oh, Sam wants something more substantial, you know what he is like,” I said.
David agreed.
Then Sam was being indecisive, wanting me to make the decision to leave, but it was hot and I wasn’t so inclined to take charge. I just wanted to chill, let somebody else “steer the boat.”
We got to Bourke Street a bit early so we sat on a seat and waited for 5pm. Sam was in ask-a-million-questions-mode. I could walk back to the carnival and he’d meet me there. I could go to the book shop. I could go to JB HiFi. I could go to STA travel and enquire about our overseas air tickets for May. I could… I could… I could… “Go and have your massage,” I said. “You are doing my head in.”
I waited for Sam on that seat. I wanted to just feel the day and the afternoon and watch the people walk by and, perhaps, feel a little boredom, you know, give the brain a rest from all the electronic distractions of the modern world. Just be. Sit on a seat for an hour and just chill. So, that is what I did. It is nice sometimes, just to go blank, no need to be entertained, or distracted, or engaged.
I imagined it was going to be like meditation.
An Indian guy came and sat next to me, speaking into his phone in the monotonous accent. I didn’t care, let the man make his phone call, I thought. Whatever. The problem was that his phone call was never ending, it was a continual “aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, eerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, eerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” in my left ear. It just never stopped. Who could he be talking to? I wondered in the end if he was dictating into his hand-held device, as perhaps it didn’t look like a phone, when I glanced over at it. He sat in the one position and didn’t move, not a muscle.
A couple of people, who I assumed, were homeless, asked me for cigarettes, but, actually, I had finished my packet from last night, so I told them that I didn’t smoke. It is just easier to say you don’t smoke, it ends the request stone dead. One guy appeared to have all of his worldly possessions in a supermarket trolley he was pushing. He had an iPhone on a tiny tripod, which he put on the ground pointing at whoever he wanted to speak to, before he spoke to them, as though he was recording everything. He set up his camera and then said quietly, “Excuse me sir, you wouldn’t happen to smoke, would you?”
“No,” I said.
He picked up his camera and shuffled off to the guy on the next seat, who had sat down with his cigarettes while the homeless guy was asking me. He set up his camera on the ground pointing towards the next guy, and then he asked that guy for a smoke, which the guy gave him.
The other guy asking for cigarettes was kind of yelling at people. He was suddenly next to me, “DO YOU HAVE A SMOKE, MATE?” I jumped.
“No sorry,” I said.
Then he pulled a paper shopping bag up to his face and screamed something unintelligible into it. You know, like somebody might use a paper bag to regulate their breathing if they were having a panic attack, except he screamed into it, kind of angry. Then he moved onto the next person he was going to ask for a cigarette. Oddly, nobody wanted to communicate with him. Everybody acted like he was invading their space.
There was a young, fat, barefoot, paste-skinned chick in tiny denim shorts that barely covered her modesty, as the top button was missing and she had to keep hitching them up. She wore a white singlet, with no bra, and she was far too big to be going commando, over which she wore a huge synthetic, mustard cardigan that sparkled with its man-made fibres in the sun. She had a huge nose ring, which I wondered if she’d just had it done as her nose seemed to be bruised. She kept wandering all about the place with a huge iced coffee in her hand, smoking incessantly. She had an oversized white handbag, with a chunky gold chain handle, into which, and out of which, she kept getting plastic bags, dress shop plastic bags, which she would fill, or empty. Then she’d march off into Target, or up the arcade, or down Bourke Street. Then moments later she be sitting down at Swanston Street in a huge cloud of cigarette smoke. Then she’d be on a seat next to me, sucking on her ice coffee straw furiously, before she’d rearrange her bags again and then march off in another direction.
Then suddenly, a pigeon came flapping down to the ground, closely followed by a second pigeon. The first pigeon was flapping about wildly, as though it was taking its last breath, which it was. Then the second pigeon jumped on top of it and seemed to be mating with it, kind of violently, as though it was a rape situation. After much flapping about on top of the first pigeon, the second pigeon flew off, and the first pigeon lay dead on the footpath. Still. Silent. No moving again. It was kind of shocking, in a way.
Many, many people stopped to look at the dead pigeon.
Eventually, David called. He asked if we had eaten. I told him that Sam’s back was sore and he wanted a massage. I’m sure I gave him the impression that I was angry. I wondered why afterwards, I think I was just being dramatic. Shrug.
By 6pm, Sam appeared refreshed. We were going to go and buy some Cups, so I can learn how to Cup Sam’s back, but he couldn’t remember in what shop he’d seen them. We walked home in the gorgeous afternoon sun. The day sparkled, the afternoon was shinny and warm.
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