street people

We were out the other night and in the space of about five minutes we interacted with an interesting little bunch of people. Maybe we were on candid camera or something.

We were standing on the footpath and first along were two gay men who walked by and flirted with Daz then giggled as they walked off because he always gets a bit flustered when that happens.

Then the drunkiest drunk girl I’ve seen for a long time stumbled by. We watched her coming up the street for a while, I think we heard her first. She had totally inappropriate drinking shoes on and was clumping along, weaving all over the footpath and when she reached me she tripped stepping down the gutter but I caught her. She was so cold, her arms were freezing. Daz put her shoe back on and I wanted to take her home but Daz said that would probably be classed as an abduction so I asked her if she was okay and she said she was and so off she went again.

Then we were discussing if we should wait for a taxi or go to the bus stop and this guy sitting in his car overheard us and said where did we want to go and how much would we pay him to drive us there and I thought, yeah right mate, I bet that’s what all the serial killers say.

So we said, no thanks, and I was looking up the street at drunky girl and then this car pulled up right in front of us which was just like the kind that serial killers drive. Well Australian serial killers anyway. Australian serial killers in movies. They all seem to drive utes  that have a closed in back, usually closed in with green canvas stuff.  Anyway this ute/truck thing pulls up right nearly on top of our toes and the back door opens and it was like one of those ads where all the clowns climb out of the buggy except these were drunk teenage boys and a couple of girls. And all these empty smirnoff and jim beam cans and bottles rolled out onto the road (which they picked up) and then the ute drove away and they all stood there deciding where they were going to go and how much money they all had and when I looked back drunky girl was gone.

And then our taxi pulled up.

I hope she made it home okay.

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9 thoughts on “street people

  1. I hope she made it home OK too! I’m sure she did.

    Happy New Year from an old voxer!!

    Anyways, I was just cleaning up some stuff here and thought I’d pop in to say “hi”! I’m not “Optamisstik” any longer (it got really tiring being so worried and anxious all the time), but do lurk around on tumblr (message me if you want the link… or not if you don’t) 🙂

    • Man, she was really pissed. Lol, you can picture it, blonde hair, short pink dress, black stiletto’s, big, big day, Ahhh, memories. I felt bad for her but she was adamant and I wasn’t up to getting into a fight about it. I did check the papers the next day……….just in case, but she has been on my mind. It’s the curse of being a mother who was once a party girl I guess, you just want to go out on Saturday nights and round up all those shitfaced young girls, bring them home and give them a strawberry daiquiri in the safety of your own home.

      Lol, optimism is definitely over rated. I think if you always aim for pessimism then you’ll never be disappointed.
      Definitely want your tumblr account please. I had a tumblr but I forgot the password and now there seems to be no way of ever accessing it again! Send it to jane.madge@hotmail.com please.

      Weird I was just thinking about you today. Freeeaaaaaaky.

  2. This is why the only time I go out at night is when I have to go to work …

    But … if I could come across a blonde drunk girl in a little pink skirt and big …. well, I might be forced to change my mind. My wife, however, would change it right back for me.

  3. Well, at least the drunk teenagers had a designated driver. Assuming the driver was sober, anyway. I’d worry about the drunk girl as well, since I can still remember the times I woke up on the couches of kind strangers who brought me home from bad parties. I guess we all have to learn the hard way when we’re that young, but it makes me fret about my younger daughter, who loves a cocktail or two or three. She works most evenings and days, so she’s generally too busy to party, but when she gets the opportunity—oh my, I see myself in a flashback. And wonder if my mother knew. Maybe she did, though she preferred being an ostrich and pretending she didn’t.

    • I think it was someones mother driving the truck, she must have brought a load of them in from out of town.

      Drunky girl was a worry but I couldn’t really drag her off the street and anyway I’m tired of worrying about everyone. I seem to be the only person who worries all the time about everyone, somehow I became the Queen of Consequences on everyone’s behalf but I’m not doing that anymore (so I say), not everything has to be my responsibility. Surely.

  4. Ah another nights on the streets of Australia. I am sure the girl got home. she probably does the same binging every weekend. If she doesn’t value herself, there is not much you can do…

    • Ouch, that’s harsh FD. We don’t even know the girl. I held her cold arm one night for a few seconds and put her shoe back on when she had obviously had a few too many drinks, but that doesn’t put me in any position to judge her. I don’t have any idea what she has done on her other weekends.

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