Got a low-altitude Columbia Natural (red currant, honey, raisin & cocoa) from Subi today after a lamb rogan Josh at Chutney Mary’s (ohhhhhh heaven!). Just $10 too.
Oh, haha, on the way in I got attacked by a drunk bull of a man. It was hilarious.
As I was passing
an alfresco table this stocky middle aged man waved me over.
Curious, I approached, but he just sat there like a stone. Wierd. I waited. Still a stone.
I turned to the prefect with many, many shiny badges opposite him at the table who looked most discombobulated. Spirit prompted and I complimented the lad on his presentation and grooming and asked him “why?”
He wondered “why what?”
I said “All of this”, waving at his achievements, “What’s it all for?”
He looked most confused (rightly so; maybe he’ll reflect upon his monumental efforts and put them into perspective: for what? No need for me to know.. ).
At which point troglodyte pushes me, muttering “something, something, poofter something, dago something, something “ in an uncomplimentary manner.
I snapped back at him aggressively “who are you calling a fucking dago?” and stared him down (I have absolutely nothing against dago’s but I’m a pom, right?)
Anyway, I make to leave as the party is getting stale and he jumps up in slow motion (how on earth did he do that?) and dances around me like Inspector Jacques Clouseau attempting to attack Saloud. All exaggerated slow motion and not coming anywhere near me.
After watching the show for a few twirls and twists as he continued to use me for target practice in some imaginary world I turned slightly to the boy and enquired where he had escaped from and what his problem was.
The reply was that he was inebriated (posh word for being ‘three sheets to the wind‘, or in Australian parlance; ‘shitfaced‘).
Giving this top-heavy 120 kilo brute my undivided attention I watched him wind up an attack of “flurry paws” (a mixed martial art style based upon drunken kangaroos). I went for a wrist lock but they were twice the size of mine and a one-handed pin wasn’t going to go over.
I couldn’t be bothered to switch to a two-handed lock, and I didn’t really want him swinging around knocking tables hither and thither. So I just batted it away.
Oh, here comes the other fist! Block/bat. and – most amusing, I was wondering when he’d finish his spin cycle and try the next program – after half a dozen or so swings he just stopped.
I told him to sit back down, but he wandered off. Unfortunately blocking the doorway to the Cafe. So I had to ask him to move (which he did have the grace to do).
The staff were much perplexed, but I got my coffee [Architectsi And Heroes, great spot, great customer service].
These are strange times, indeed.