We were minding our own business, as Marita and I walked across Flinders Street from the station on Friday night, to go shopping for a present for my nephew Leo’s first birthday. As we passed Young & Jackson’s on the corner, suddenly there was a man in a bright orange shirt pulling on my arm. I didn’t recognise him. Some stranger. I couldn’t get a good look at him, but he looked slightly crazed. Must be some madman, I thought. Probably harmless, but just a bit excited for one reason or another.
I shouted at him: “No! No! No thanks mate, not today!” and tried to loosen his grip on my arm, as he pulled me across.
Then I realised it was Josh, and he was, in his own unique way, pulling me into the pub for a drink.
A pot and a chat later and we were better prepared to hit the shops.
3 replies on “The madman”
That’s how you fend madmen off? Remind me not to go camping with you on a desecrated Indian burial ground.
I suspect my method would be different on the desecreated Indian burial ground, as opposed to on Swanston Street in rush hour.
Re: Subsequent post re tv and tapes. What nonsense. It was interesting enough. A blog post is not an entrance exam or job application. ‘Diary of Average Australian’. Sometimes you can just be average.