So, I’m taking the dogs for a walk along Johnston Street again this morning. We walk on the other side of the road to what happened yesterday because life is too short to deal with sad, old, fucks. As we head along Johnston Street, Clean-Up-Your-Poo man is at the front of his shop, again, this morning. I guess two Bulldogs aren’t all that hard to spot, no matter what side of the road we’re on, I think, as I am trying to will up a run away ute careering up on to the footpath and taking him out.
Johnston Street is having a relatively quiet moment and he walks out into the lane heading out of the city and says, “If you ever do again what you did yesterday, I’m gonna report you to the council.”
Oh, I think. You again. He’s like a dog with a bone, or a dog with a poo, as the case may be. And I think, well, I’m not entering into that argument with him today, so I say, as quick as a flash, and I’m not really sure where this came from, “Are there some sort of prescription drugs that you should be taking that you have neglected to take by any chance?”
He says, “What the fuck are you talking about, mate?”
“Well, if there’s some sort of anxiety medication that you should be taking, that you are not taking, well, that could explain your behaviour.”
He starts to say that I’m a jerk, I think fucking jerk were the words, something about “people like you really shit…”
Now, you understand the lights have changed at Brunswick Street, by this time, and cars are approaching him, still standing in the middle of Johnston Street, raving on, and for a split second I think I’m going to get my wish come true, re: ute squashing his head like a water melon, but they start to honk, effectively censoring his colourful language, and he has to do a tiptoe Jeté, or is it Plié? Leaping, retreat back to his side of Johnston Street with his tail firmly between his 75 year old butt cheeks, and the bulldogs and I walk away, with me, thinking that it was just a beautiful moment, the only thing that would have made it greater would have been if he’d tripped on the gutter and cracked his skull open.
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