Sydney Madness part IV
March 2nd 2011 11:47
Part four: Lit fuse
“Can you show me your student concession mate,” a middle-aged, podgy transit guard asks Dylan.
Dylan pulls out a flimsy wallet, containing a few dishevelled cards but no student identification.
“I must have left it at home man, just give me a break, I’m having a bad day man,” Dylan replies desperately.
“Sorry mate, I’m going to have to issue you a fine.”
I was wrong. Sydney happens to be a totalitarian city under the guise of a modern progressive metropolis, where illegally boarding a train without the appropriate ticket equates to a $300 fine. Wait a second. $300? Wow, even in Twilight Zone Perth it is only a $50 punishment.
“Where do you live?”
“Albany. Do you know where that is?”
“In Western Australia.”
“WELL AREN’T YOU MR GEOGRAPHY,” shouted Dylan who had created a scene, to the mirth of some passengers but to the utter shock of the more gentile folk.
Unfortunately, my conservative girlfriend was lumped in the latter group. Her face was ashen-stricken, brows arched. Oh crap, I can’t be associated with my raving lunatic mate, not with The Woman in vicinity. I wanted to be his crazy sidekick, ala Lazlo to Hunter in Where the Buffalo Roam, giving the finger to the authorities. But I couldn’t. I was rendered helpless.
But Dylan appeared to be coping as a man-one destructive machine. Just like Arnie in Commando fighting off villains in a lone hand, except Dylan was using colourful verbal tirade instead of a Kalashnikov.
“YOU GUYS ARE COMMUNISTS, WHATEVER YOUR NAMES ARE PROBABLY SOMETHING AVERAGE LIKE JIM OR JOHN,” Dylan ranted, his fuse lit and now at breaking point.
The officers were doing their best not to snot him, and Dylan was lapping up the situation. He was doing what he does best, thumbing his nose at the authorities.
We were off the train…. pants were shamelessly pulled down….. butts kicked at the next stop. But it was Dylan doing the raping. “YOU MUST FEEL REAL PROUD OF YOURSELVES, WORKING THIS CRUMMY JOB, LIVING YOUR SHITTY LIFE. YEAH FUCK YOU.”
He grabbed the ticket and we were out of there. The train swirled away and we now had to walk to our destination – which was nowhere. Our destination wasn’t a specific place, just a good old fashioned bar.
“I feel kinda bad but in my defence I was coming off a three-day bender,” Dylan said, as if practicing for his day in court answering to a maggot magistrate.
To be continued….
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