Monday, my day in the office, and you know how much I hate that. I have run out of excuses, and I just hate that too. Gotta go, and in the words of one of my all time favourite movies, it is beyond my control.
6am. I leave Home. It is still dark.
6:04am a tram comes up Brunswick Street
The sky is turning the most glorious shade of silvery pale blue.
6:06am. St Vincent’s Plaza.
6:09am. Spring Street.
A cute guy with sandy brown wavy hair, a beard and glasses, square jaw, wearing a blue jacket in chinos with a significant bulge gets off. I’d like to see him get off. As Kick Gurry once said, you wanna see me masturbating like a monkey on the carpet. You got the idea, Kick.
6:13am. Swanston street
This should be where the tradies in hiviz get on, and they do. All the blokes. Lots of blokes.
6:16am. William Street.
I try to take some photos of the sunrise in the office buildings windows, when I notice the morning light reflecting in a most pleasing way.
I walk down Collins Street. I love the early morning light. And the deserted streets. You feel like you own the place, or, at least, it is all yours to explore if you like, no one to disturb you.
6:20am. I see people smiling getting into a black Mercedes van as they are chauffeur driven away from the Intercontinental Hotel. Remember how exciting that is when travelling, getting up early in the morning and moving onto your next destination.
6:21am I’m in the lift
I sign in.
I make coffee
6:35am there is the most glorious sunrise
I made coffee.
I put my new B sides and Bonus Tracks Rolling Stones play list on.
7.30am. I have everything finished.
My day is done. Can I go home now?
I’m still the only one in the office so far.
Keith Richards’ sings Losing My Touch.
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