The 86
I saw an old man on the tram, who reminded me of another old man who looked and sounded like Detective Senior Sargeant O'Riley from Cop Shop.
"Baker!"
"Ah,... Yes, Detective Senior Sargeant O'Riley?"
"Where are those reports?"
"Ah,... I am just trying to get the new computer set up, Detective Senior Sargeant."
"Computers eh?...", and he would take of his bi-focals and chew pensively on the arm.
"Sounds like a waste of time to me... You just make sure you get those reports to me. I want them on my desk first thing Monday morning!"
"Ah,... yes sir, Detective Senior Sargeant."
And then Linda Stoner would walk on, sporting legs that could only end in my dreams.
The driver sounded like Darth Vader with an Italian accent.
"Next Stop, Ex-hi-bi-tion Street." "Now you will know the Dark side."
"Swan-ston Walk,... the Alliance will under-estimate the Emperor's powers."
And I looked over at the old man. As the train ground to a halt outside one of Melbourne's many venues, the doors flung open and a blast of the night air washed over us as if someone had thrown a bucket of water.
Some diva was wailing about shaking her ass in-between the perfunctory beats of the doof-doof music.
A little further up the aisle, a man had collapsed on himself in the throes of drunken slumber. Vodka and raspberry spilled a trail down the length of the carriage, and the empty bottle rolled between his feet. The passenger opposite studied him nervously, hoping that his shoes would be lucky. And that the drunk man's head didn't end up in his lap from any sudden braking.
I watched the old man.
He had a look on his face like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
This would never happen in his day.
A good time was standing around the piano singing saucy sea shanties and drinking cups of tea. And taking his partner to the dance where he would bring her home by 11, and if he played his cards right, a kiss on the cheek before heading home with a neatly folded handkerchief as a momento of his sojourn.
The tram pulled away. Even though the tracks led to Bundoora, and I was getting off in a few stops, the old man didn't know where we were all headed.
"Baker!"
"Ah,... Yes, Detective Senior Sargeant O'Riley?"
"Where are those reports?"
"Ah,... I am just trying to get the new computer set up, Detective Senior Sargeant."
"Computers eh?...", and he would take of his bi-focals and chew pensively on the arm.
"Sounds like a waste of time to me... You just make sure you get those reports to me. I want them on my desk first thing Monday morning!"
"Ah,... yes sir, Detective Senior Sargeant."
And then Linda Stoner would walk on, sporting legs that could only end in my dreams.
The driver sounded like Darth Vader with an Italian accent.
"Next Stop, Ex-hi-bi-tion Street." "Now you will know the Dark side."
"Swan-ston Walk,... the Alliance will under-estimate the Emperor's powers."
And I looked over at the old man. As the train ground to a halt outside one of Melbourne's many venues, the doors flung open and a blast of the night air washed over us as if someone had thrown a bucket of water.
Some diva was wailing about shaking her ass in-between the perfunctory beats of the doof-doof music.
A little further up the aisle, a man had collapsed on himself in the throes of drunken slumber. Vodka and raspberry spilled a trail down the length of the carriage, and the empty bottle rolled between his feet. The passenger opposite studied him nervously, hoping that his shoes would be lucky. And that the drunk man's head didn't end up in his lap from any sudden braking.
I watched the old man.
He had a look on his face like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
This would never happen in his day.
A good time was standing around the piano singing saucy sea shanties and drinking cups of tea. And taking his partner to the dance where he would bring her home by 11, and if he played his cards right, a kiss on the cheek before heading home with a neatly folded handkerchief as a momento of his sojourn.
The tram pulled away. Even though the tracks led to Bundoora, and I was getting off in a few stops, the old man didn't know where we were all headed.
posted by Adrian at 10:55 pm
1 Comments:
aw lovely.
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