2002-04-25
(copy of an email)
It's Thursday, ANZAC Day, when the old age pensioners got paid early in order for them to piss it all away on their "One day of the year". Despite not actually fighting in any wars these men drink themselves into oblivon, for the love of their country.... perhaps really for the love of the booze their goverment benifit allows them.
I walked past my local today and found myself strangly drawn to the smell of beer soaked carpet and damp floorboards. So I went in and ordered a pot and managed a seat by the window cramped in between old men. and for at least an hour I stared out at the ocean, and ocassionally at the sea of men swapping tales of the one that got away and their sheila's spending habits.
and I realised I didn't hate it so much, I realised that it was perhaps the one day of the year that they could indeed spend their goverment benefit with men who were alike,men who still went fishing and called their partners 'shielas'.
men who were still simple enough to drink beer by the sea and let their shoes squelch on the carpet on the way to the beer garden. men who still frequented pubs with beer gardens instead of carparks and admin space. Conversation puntuated by rising laughter and loud slaps on one anothers back.
I finished my drink and manouvred my way out of the place, cause it was their day, it wasn't my place to steal a poorly padded stool. It's not about the march and it's not even about the war it's about beer and friends and soggy carpet.
(heart)
megan
"we've met before don't be dissapointed, keep me, don't keep me" Life Without Buildings.
tonight I have a strange desire to sit on my porch and smoke..... and run my hands through my hair and let in fall in front of my face, hands trying to find my mouth in order to inhale.....
.