To The Waitress Wearing Boots:

My family and I spend a lot of time in cafés. My dad hasn’t lived in Australia since I was a kid, and when he comes to visit we take up this strange, roving existence through the streets of the cities we meet in. Having no home in Australia, my dad takes up residence in cafés. As such, together we are now able to pick apart every café and restaurant we come to in the most amazing detail. Food: too hipster. Coffee: only lukewarm. Menu: Comic sans? This weekend, however, on a pavement in Newtown, one boot-wearing waitress put a stop to all that. Complaints half out of our mouths, we were confronted with this smiling, benevolent, boot-wearing wonder who promptly engaged us in the most lively conversation I have ever experienced from waiting staff.

Thank you waitress for reminding me that complaining in cafes is not nearly as fun as admiring red leather boots.

Five stars to the waitress. But mostly, five stars to her amazing boots.

Murray’s Coach Girl:

This is dedicated to the girl on my Murray’s bus today who could possibly be one of the greatest minds of our generation – she had figured out a foolproof way of not getting anyone to sit next to her. There she sat, as I walked onto the coach, already dreading the inevitable discomfort of having a complete stranger sit just a little bit too close and who would, even worse, try to sustain a conversation. Or snore. I always tend to get the snorers. Set up comfortably, in a seat not too close to the front, and yet not too close to the back to get bathroom fumes (which nobody wants), was perhaps the brightest mind of our age; pretending to be asleep with a bag just draped enough on the seat next to her that if anyone with a desire for that seat moved it, it would be dramatically awkward. Anyone who was even considering that seat would just have to wake her up. I saw, in my brief trip from the stairs of the bus to my seat across the aisle, no less than 3 people think, “Ooh, there’s a seat”, realize they would have to wake her up, and backtrack to sit literally anywhere else. As the luggage doors slammed shut, and the bus pulled away from the Jolimont Centre, I turned my gaze across the aisle and there she was, awake, sitting up, and with no one beside her. Yes, I thought, possibly the greatest mind of our generation.

Five stars for simple, foolproof genius.

Do You Want Anything?!:

Children are essentially tiny drunk people. They walk around without pants on, often stumbling, and with a general lack of any inhibitions. This was proved to me on one of my many fateful trips to Maccas, which, as we all know, is a safe haven for the weird, the wonderful (sort of), and the drunk, which on one particular day last week, happened to branch out to include a small child of about 7, with two pigtails, socks and sandals. Her mother, was trying desperately to get her young daughter, “Julia”, as we would soon learn, to eat something – anything. “Julia, please pick something!” “NAH”, Julia replied, clearly having changed her little mind to something other than the previously desired Happy Meal toy. “Julia, we’re going to leave if you don’t pick something!” “NO”, Julia replied, clearly not going anywhere, but clearly not picking anything to eat either. Her mum tried once again, obviously desperate – “Julia, I swear, pick something or we’re going!” Julia, by now, was evidently fed up with her mother’s attitude. She looked down at the half melted soft serve in her hand, looked up at her mother with defiant eyes, looked back down at the ice cream clenched in her hand, and shoved it into her forehead. “NUH”, she chirped obstinately. The battle had been won.

4 stars for completely not giving a shit, but minus 1 for giving your mum a hard time, especially so close to Mother’s Day. Spread the love, people.