So today has been a great day so far, and it only promises to get better. If we are going by the conventional 'midnight-to-midnight' day system – and for the purposes of this recap I think we just may – then the day started rather poorly with me beginning my shift at Yah Yah's. Yah Yah's is a great place to work; it's fucking brilliant actually, but starting work is never any good... although, being as it was that my shift started at midnight exactly, and that I had realistically already started working by 11:55pm, it could be said that the worst part of my shirt – the dreading anticipation of a night's labour – was already over by the time the thirteenth of October, twenty-twelve was upon us. I only worked until three because I had to give a tour this morning at 10:30am, which required a 9am alarm and it seemed the day was going to be one feral shit-storm from the get-go, but I think all that sad, dejected moping about how much my Saturday was going to suck has ended up turning things on their head.
So I got home at three thirty to my housemates (and OH what mates
they are) parting hearty in the lounge room with thudding house music
and deep grooves aplenty. I bought a pack of Doritos (Cheese Supreme
you FUCK what else?) on the way home with five dong I found on the
floor at work and skated down the big hill. Yes, yes and yes. The
scenes I return home to after work every weekend are inspiring to say
the least. This is the house I always wanted to live in from ages
eighteen to twenty – a natural after-party destination that any
self-respecting head would want to return to after the din of the
dancefloor dies down. It is precisely because of my adolescent desire
for such a place that I never was able to create one in those days,
and the greatest comic irony of the whole thing is now that I live in
the house of my naïve, popularity-obsessed self's dreams, I don't so
much care about the parties that happen here. I'm willing to join in
for a while, maybe suck down a few puffs of the spliff in
circulation, but before long I'm in bed, and sleeping while the walls
continue to shake.
I did my tour – woke up at nine, pickups in town from ten, tour until one, and made eighty cash units from the seven people on my tour, although I did forget to take the photo of the group (god DAMN it I keep forgetting that shit) so I'm looking at a thirty-dollar pay-in for that one. 'E neva lerns, duz e'? Nope. Also ran into an old friend from way back in Adelaide – Dom the Drummer from Brighton. He picked me out of the lineup at Aldi and by the sounds of it he's doing the do just like everyone else is over here in Melbourne; tearing shit up and screaming down the dangerous road. Numbers were exchanged and I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of olde Dominic from now on.
Back at home by one-thirty and in bed watching season two of
Community with commentaries by two, and now I'm up at five thirty
after a quick chat to Peter Pan of Neverland fame about how he's
striking his demons back with bamboo poles and a head of
positivity... things are looking up. Tonight I'm doing a spot at
Station 59 for the late show, and then work, which somehow seems a
lot less ominous after last night's shift and the catharsis of
writing this post. Everything is so much simpler when it's laid out
in simple terms doncharekkin? Yes, is the answer we were looking for
there. Yes people. Just yes.
Peace, Taco.
Peace, Taco.
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