the ghost of aussie past part 2

This is the second, and final extract of the Australia thing, to be honest the writing in the rest of the sketchbook is largely second rate and depressing, skipping the good bits; it seems I only wrote when either bored or depressed. The picture is, again, a pencil drawing this time not a friend of mine, but a tramp.

24.9

Pints! They do pints ha! I don’t know why that makes me happy, but it does. It shouldn’t be questioned or over analyzed, it should just fucking be. The story of my life, if there is one thing that will be written, told or sung about my life; it is going to be “he never knew how stressful/depressing/good it was until it was gone”. Man, I never knew how much not having a job was fucking with my head until it was gone, well, possibly gone. I realized on the way to the pub tonight, that everyone has there safety net, the skanks have their jackal headed pimps loitering with hidden shivs, and even the dipso shoutys have their mumbling friends to nod along. It’s just that my safety net is a defeat, the words “back before Christmas”* rattling around my head.

I don’t know too much, well about stuff that counts, but life has taught me a few things so far. One of them is never presume a girl is going to be bad at pool. Take this chick at the table before she started, she projected an air of silly girlyness, now at the table the switch has been flicked from giggling girl to cold shark. All of a sudden she has the stance, the bridge and the cold, cold shark stare, which could be of concentration but is probably the impatient waiting for the fuck up, the smallest hint of chum on the table. Three things to look out for to spot if you are playing someone who plays a lot of pool. Frequent players have no fear of the rack, they won’t wait the nod or have to check the picture, the balls are in the triangle as soon as they are spat out of the table. Second, good players get low, hunched down across the table. Third regulars player bang their cues on the floor in recognition of a good shot instead the juggling act that’s required to applaud. The girl, now clearing up, did all three, I saw it, her boyfriend didn’t, but he’s now six balls down and his patronizing has stopped. Poor guy, the change on his face has been a clear and dramatic change, from condescending to grim realization, passing through disbelief and finally respect. Well she won and the guy looks like his very man essence has been drained, he’s probably going to have to start wearing moisturizer and remembering birthdays now.

*I was.