ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
Nobody knows where they’re going – but they sure as hell look like they do.
It’s just after 12 in our town’s Old City District and the various suits, smart casuals and the plain old shit-kickers dressed in mufti have flooded out of the offices in search of a $10 lunch special.
The narrow, windy streets have footpaths just wide enough to walk single-file each way, however, it seems nobody’s told Tommy, Danny and Sammy from the local abattoirs’ sales team.
They were seen walking three abreast down Willis Street toward BONA [Betoota Old And New Art] taking up the entire footpath, forcing oncoming traffic out onto the street and the faster walkers behind them seething.
All three were too caught up in their own world on self-importance and zero spatial awareness to speak to our reporter, who watched the whole scene take place from across the street.
The Advocate spoke to a long-legged, quick-walking hospitality professional who ended up stuck behind the trio of casual strollers – something he says quickly ruined his day.
“You know I’m not having a very good week,” said Myles Freakford.
“I’m 90% sure my ex, who broke up with me two years, is now seeing somebody significantly more successful and better looking than me. My hours just got changed from day to night shift. Cricket is still in turmoil and Cheika’s not taking Sam Carter to Japan. My life is a shambles,”
“Then these fuckwit slow walkers taking up the whole footpath like they’re the fucking Bee Gees or something. I just wanted to punch one of them in the back of the head. Not really. But yeah, I’m just so fucking stressed man.”
Our reporter patted young Myles on the back then went back across the road.
More to come.
