The week has been pretty cruisy – no major complaints, no major hassles – well, if there is one complaint, but it was all self-inflicted: my very pretty shoes made me a cripple.
So with nothing big to whinge about, I thought I’d share with you a list of random amusements / bemusements from the week.
I live in St Leonards and work in North Sydney (and occasionally in the CBD), and I catch the bus to and from work every day, even though I live above a train station. As a rule, I don’t catch trains (I’m a bus girl), because trains and I do not have a good relationship. My bus trips are usually pretty tame – unlike my friend Danie who gets her hair stroked by random fellow passengers. This week, I was privy to some random behaviours of people who catch the bus.
On Wednesday morning, I had my hair tugged from behind for the entire 10-minute journey. As I was sitting down in an available seat, I glanced at the person in the seat behind me, who appeared quite normal and engrossed in a magazine. She was dressed for work, just like me. The first tug of my hair happened within 2 minutes of me sitting down. I didn’t think much of the incident – thought she might have accidentally tugged at my long hair whilst shifting her weight in her seat, so I leaned forward and wrapped my scarf over my hair to contain my wild mane. A couple of minutes later, I felt a second tug. I again leaned forward and pushed the ends of my hair under my scarf. A minute or so pass, and I felt a third tug – through the scarf. I whipped my head around to confront the girl, but she seemed enraptured by her magazine. Sucking in the big ones, I turned back to face the front of the bus.
Would you believe it, I felt a fourth tug of my hair. I decided to do nothing and waited for the fifth tug, which happened another minute later. I waited a few seconds and turned to confront her, just as she was reaching out for a sixth tug. Her hand landed on my cheek. This chick wasn’t even looking at me – she was tugging at my hair while reading her magazine! She snapped her head up and froze, my mouth dropped opened, and when a snappy comment would have been great, my morning brain came up with nothing. Thankfully for me, the bus pulled up at my bus stop. In the end, I glared hard at her and got the hell off the bus.
Praying that the afternoon bus trip home would be incident-free, I alighted a bus at around 6.30pm to take me home. All the seats on the bus were taken, with the exception of one next to a girl who was treating the bus seat like her lounge. She was sprawled three-quarters of the way across the seat, reading a magazine. I stood next to the seat and said "excuse me", which she completely ignored. I repeated my "excuse me", which again fell on deaf ears. So I sat down – on top of her. In my defence, I had no choice – as I was sitting down, the bus driver braked suddenly and the bus lurched around. If the silly mole had been sitting upright, I would have landed on the seat and missed her completely. I apologised, but she continued to refuse to acknowledge me. She did sit upright after that.
The Cage @ St Leonards Tavern
And no, the Cage is not a new nightclub.
I was still shaking my head as I got off the bus for my short walk home, past my yocal the St Leonards Tavern. The Tav is the dodgy dive of a pub on the corner of Pacific Highway / Christie Street / Sergeants Lane where all the yocals drink. Prior to 1 July, when you could still smoke inside pubs and clubs, the Tav would always be filled with smoke, even though the "smoking section" was limited to the tiny area next to the pokies.
Prior to 1 July, I noticed a lot of pubs and clubs that do not have outdoor areas undergo upgrades to their premises so as to provide an area for smokers, but I must say I never noticed any works being carried out at the Tav. When I strolled past on Wednesday night, I finally saw the Tav’s new smoking wing – tacked onto the end of the pokies area, overhanging their rubbish skip in Sergeants Lane, in the form of a cage.
An Itty Bitty Police Car
On my way to work on Thursday, my bus passed a police car. I usually don’t pay much attention to police cars, unless it has its lights flashing and sirens blaring. This particular police car caught my eye.
The itty bitty 2-door white Suzuki Jimny with full police branding was literally jam packed with police officers, 4 in total. The 2 in the back looked like sardines, sitting shoulder to shoulder with no room to move. I keep wondering how they managed to jam those 2 into the back in the first place.
The 2 in the front did not fare much better – even as I type this, I have no idea how the driver was able to steer and change gears with his front passenger sitting almost on top of him!
And no, it didn’t look like they’d be able to get out that car in a hurry.
Hugh Grant’s Divine Lovin’
Whilst Hugh Grant’s career has been steadily declining (is he still making movies??), it’s been up, up and away for Divine Brown, the prostitute who serviced Hugh on Sunset Boulevard in 1995. In a recent interview, Divine thanked Hugh for the night of her life.
The once destitute Brown (born Stella Marie Thompson) now wears mink coats on her back, diamonds around her neck and drives a Rolls-Royce and Mercedes Benz. She lives in the luxury of Beverly Hills and her two daughters, Cheyenne, now 18, and Brianna, 17, have been put through private school. Even now, more than a decade later, there’s no sign of the money-making infamy slowing down – a DVD about her life due to be released.
"Everything turned out for the better," Brown says. "It helped me turn my life into something positive. I was blessed that it could get me out of that lifestyle.
"Gangsta" Brown, her former "manager" and the father of her two children, said that night transformed both of their lives.
"I went from miserable to the best night of my life," he says. "The money poured in, poured in, poured in. She had interviews, food, lingerie, and lipstick commercials. We bought a new house, new cars, everything you could think of.
"I love Hugh Grant. Hugh Grant put my kids through school, gave us a chance of the life we probably would’ve never reached. We had a chance to travel on private jets. If I can meet him and shake his hand all I would like to say is: ‘Thank you. I appreciate you, and if there is anything I can do in return I would love to be a friend’."
Oh dear …
And finally …
You just can’t trust pirates.