Buggarising around is a good Aussie term, and that is what I did at home this morning. R went off to take Mother out and I was home alone. I needed a Christmas haircut though, having already dealt with more personal hair, I went into town for my 'five on top, 2 at the sides' buzz cut. There was a little left over Greek salad and one small piece of chicken schnitzel from last night, so they, after earlier cereal, that sustained me for a while.
But by early afternoon I was little hungry and dying for a decent cup of coffee. At my fave
perv on blokes people watching outdoor coffee place opposite the Town Hall, I ordered a blueberry muffin, and as usual laid down the law that I wanted my coffee in a cup or a glass, not a paper cup, just before he wrote LB, for long black on the paper cup. I could say this is for environmental reasons, but that is not really true. I just don't like my good cups of coffee in paper cups. The environmental effects of water use for making china or glass coffee cups and the washing of them as against paper cups is still out for the jury.
I sat down, waiting for my coffee and muffin. My coffee was brought, and my change of $2.70. I thought $10 was a bit expensive for coffee and a muffin. The probably gay Asian guy who took my order had a slightly tinted friend who turned up for whatever reason and was hanging around. Both were quite attractive.
Some old Asian dude was at the counter ordering. But wait, I know him. It is Tong Wong. Yes, an amusing name. As I have said in the past, I know more Wongs than I do Smiths or Jones'.
There was this moment, do I act or just ignore? Normally I do the latter, but something made me get up and say to him, Tong? He turned around and looked at me blankly, and then suddenly recognition dawned. He uninvited joined me to eat our muffins, and after mine did not arrive and he sorted it out. I worked with him many years ago. He is Chinese Malaysian. A couple of times we went out for lunch, ever so many years ago. We caught up with all sorts of news, some good, and a lot rather sad as people who we knew had died. After confessing I was now 60 years old, he is 74. You can easily guess I am 60. Not so Tong at 74. It was great to see him.
I strolled down Swanston and Collins Street to Degraves Street, where I had my Christmas haircut, and then to the Woolworths Centro in Flinders for something. I just did not feel like facing a crowded Swanston Street/St Kilda Road tram, so I just walked along Flinders Street to Market Street, looking in the shops as I went. I knew I had twelve minutes before the next 58 tram to get me home. It was clearly late, by my checking of Tram Hunter and Tram Tracker. I thought the tram would be busy. It was more than that, packed. I should have gone back to to Swanston Street. I nearly used the all directions pedestrian crossing at Flinders and Elizabeth Street, but decided to stay on the shady side of the street.
Once home, I lay on my bed for a bit, alternating between watching on my tablet a Russian dude trying to start a diesel train in -30C temps and some hot lads in 35C temps in Brazil, doing what they do. My phone was next to me, but because it was on soft bedding and the sound was turned off, I did not hear the vibration of the arriving 34 text messages.
R came home, full of news from Mother and very full of stress from Mother. I allowed him to earbash me for a while before he retired for his nap.
I've just remembered now. Tong is a Sally Army person. Not discussed, but he would know I am gay.
Yes, so just two hours after I crossed Elizabeth Street in Flinders Street, some maniac has mown down a
heap of pedestrians in a car at that very same location. Instead of spending money on stupid bollards, perhaps our spooks should be getting more funding. Ok, yes, I am wrong to assume it was a Moslem terrorist attack. We shall see.
The bottom of Elizabeth Street has been turned into a pop up pedestrian only area. I took this bad photo a couple of weeks ago. It's a busy spot and the perfect place to mow people down.