I ended up on the cutting room floor. Well I would have had I been included. Perhaps minor connection is a better was of expressing my connection to the Underbely crims of the seventies and eighties. I am sure I have written of this before but a search using the salient words brings up nothing, so maybe I imagined it.
You may be surprised, but I was not the only love of R's life. At the tender age of twenty, I met R's b/f and I was immediately cast in the role of homebreaker by R. He even threw a punch at the skinny young bitch, moi, who stole his b/f. R and his b/f separated and I was with R's ex briefly before I found his philandering ways not to my taste. Not much later, I came across R elsewhere and the rest is an ongoing thirty year old history.
Let us call R's ex G, because that is what Gary starts with.
G came from a large family, something like nine brothers and sisters. All their names started with G. They had always lived in the St Kilda/Port Melbourne area, in rented premises. Some of them were petty crims, a couple did ok in respectable ways, one even disasociating himself from his past and going to live in Doncaster. I met most of them and they were rough, although very hostpitable to their brother's latest bit of fluff, me.
Some had done some time in prison but they were genuinally nice people. So long as is wasn't you they were robbing. Yikes, I just remembered sister G, who lived in Broadmeadows and her husband worked on the wharves. I recall the teen daughters. Oh dear.
I had such a sheltered upbringing. These people were like none I had ever come across. I was fascinated and entranced. For a time when I knew him, G worked for Woodruff's Dairy in Port Melbourne. He worked at night and a couple of nights I went jockey for him. That meant running around in dark streets smelling of piss and trying to fulfill the order of flavoured milks. Everyone wanted caramel flavoured milk but not much was produced, so it only went to a favoured few. He deliverd to all the wharves and at every security gate, there was an exchange of some sort of payola. I never asked. All these bent and corrupt people were such terribly nice and friendly people.
G was an alcaholic but like the best, he held it all together very well. The children were all devoted to their mother who lived in various rented premises. The last one I recall was a rented flat on the corner of Barkly and Carlisle Streets. She was known by her children as 'Sue, the St Kidla Do'. She was only a couple of years younger than my grandmother who must have had sex once at least, because I am here. It is so beyond the bounds of possibilities that Mother would have asked my grandmother if she had given herself a good fingering the night before and my jaw must have been hanging lower than Sue's large tits when I heard this. Another Ardarth if you please. Sue, need some new batteries for your friend under the bed? How could people talk to their mother like this?
G was a charmer. We all have our little fetishes, and his was picking up straight guys in rough pubs. He had worked in many pubs in the St Kilda and Port Melbourne area. He nearly sent the Clare Castle in Port Melbourne broke with his light fingers. I suppose the blokes had to be slightly bent or vulnerable and he picked his mark, but he could go into any hotel and pick up a straight guy. I don't know what they did, but I am sure it was mutally sastifying. To watch him work his charms was sublime. Of course he was very nice looking too with a a nice body. The joke was always, I can give you twelve inches but I am small, so I will have to do it twice. Actually at such a young age, he had already learnt that size does not matter if technique is good.
We still have a vague connection back to G as where he worked and who he worked for still services our cars, in a slightly different location. Another of his straight conquests.
To the point, one such conquest was a character featured in Underbely. I have discussed this with R and neither of us can remember which K*** brother it was. Perhaps just as well as one is still alive I think? G took him home and they did whatever, both probably drunk. But the Kane person was not so drunk as to not notice things and shortly after their house was broken into and a leather jacket was stolen. There could have been other items. We can't remember.
Last time I checked in a stalker like manner, G is still alive and living in Belgrave. I hope his fire precautions are good. He would have to be approaching seventy now, but I bet he could still charm the socks off anyone.