Sydney Madness Part II
February 16th 2011 13:10
Part Two: Rock Stars
My boozy mate Dylan and his German missus Frau were waiting outside our posh apartment.
I hadn’t seen Dylan for some time but he was always a constant and welcoming reminder of living on the edge.
We had bonded while serving our journalism penance at a regional outpost amid a conservative and backwards town. It was harsh terrain, not physically but spiritually. I had experienced harshness aesthetically during my sojourn north but the folk were pleasant, albeit in their deadshit country yokel style.
But people south were rude, sensitive and downright insecure with their miserable existence. Ok, it wasn’t that miserable, it was actually a beautiful town but unfortunately it was ruled and overrun by inbreds.
So what does this have to do with anything? Well if you’re familiar with any of my writing, nothing except that Dylan virtually single-handedly made my time at the shit hole quite bearable and not a self-imposed jail sentence.
Anyway we made out way via the lift to the top floor of the apartment. After weeks of feeling hapless and worthless during my stint of unemployment, it was nice to feel, albeit temporary, important.
I opened the door of the suite and proceeded to stumble over a chair blocking the entrance into the apartment. I glanced around and the apartment was a mess. That’s the polite way of describing it. It was fucking trashed. An ironing board was on the dining table, couches were flipped over, chairs were scattered all over the place. Beer bottles and caps were littered around the room.
And then I remembered how the apartment ended up looking like it was occupied by Hunter S Thompson during his halcyon days of the ‘70s.
To be continued..........
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