Walking The Dog

It was cold, it was early. I was walking up Gertrude Street, it was 7.30am. There weren't many people around. I was one of the first on their way to work and all that. Not for any noble reason, you understand, not diligence, not hard work, not because of any strong work ethic, no, I leave early in the morning because I wake up early anyway, and then I can leave early in the afternoon, get it over and done with and get home, ahead of the great unwashed.

There was a couple in matching dark blue puffer jackets and dark blue tracksuit pants walking their black Labrador coming towards me. A professional couple walking their dog before they head to the respective offices, I thought. That looked kind of smart, matching outfits on which they'd spent some cash. She was blonde and athletic, the type, I felt, who would wear active gear a lot. He was a big, strapping guy and his dark blue track pants were just tight enough for me to see why she liked him.