Many years ago in a town north-west of Melbourne on the way to the ski resorts there lived a man with aspirations to take over the world. It had been his dream ever since he was a boy. All through school he kept his head down and studied hard. He graduated high school Dux of his class and had his pick of universities.
He attended Melbourne University and threw himself into his business course. He knew that only the rich and powerful had any influence in the world and figured that he would slowly work his way up to their level of wealth and power, all the while expanding his corporation across Australia and the rest of the world. He knew that taking over the world would be an extremely slow process and that he would likely be an old man when he succeeded. But he believed that by that point he would’ve worked out a formula that would keep him alive forever, he was an avid comic book reader and took most of his inspiration from them.
He graduated university, once again the Dux and also engaged to a woman who had also been studying the same course as him. She shared his dreams of world domination and came from a wealthy family. They both started working for her father, both excelling at their jobs.
One night, the night he planned on proposing to her, she was hit by a car and killed instantly. He was devastated by her death. Before leaving the scene of the accident, he pulled a few hairs from her head and sealed them in an airtight bag. He planned on cloning her and pretending that she had never died. Her father had a laboratory in one of his buildings. However, her father refused to let him to clone her. They argued fiercely over it until he killed her father in the heat of the moment.
Realising what he had just done, he drove over to the laboratory and stole the equipment he would need to clone his beloved back to life again before driving back to his home town north west of Melbourne. There he settled down in a large house on the edge of town and opened up a fish and chip shop.
By day he ran the fish and chip shop, getting to know everyone once again. By night he worked in the laboratory he had set up in his house, trying to clone his beloved back to life. It took him years and many failures before he was able to do this. But once he was able to figure out how to get the clones to form human shape instead of the hideous misshapen blobs they originally took he knew he was very close to seeing his beloved again. It still took him a few years to get the process right so that the clone didn’t immediately die as soon as he removed it from the test tube.
The first clone to survive being removed from the test tube was a disappointment to him. It had all of his beloved’s memories, including being hit by the car, but it or she felt nothing for him. In fact, she screamed at him and tried to leave his house, wanting to go to her family in Melbourne. He subdued the clone and put her back in the test tube in suspended animation. He knew that he should kill and dispose of her, but she looked just like his beloved and he couldn’t bring himself to kill her.
This happened with each resulting clone he made. Try as he might, he couldn’t replicate the feelings the original had had for him. His house was now filled with clone filled test tubes of his beloved. Until one night when the latest clone became violent when he tried to restrain her and return her to the tube. She viciously turned on him, and ended up sending him staggering backwards against one of the tubes. She lunched at him, swinging his work stool at his head.
He ducked the stool and scrambled to get away from the clone. The stool smashed the glass of the tube, and the liquid holding the clone within in suspended animation gushed onto the floor. The latest clone threw herself at him with a wild scream, and they both tumbled to the ground, both desperately fighting for their lives. In the process, they smashed another tube.
The two newly released clones joined the fight, and within moments the three of them had throttled the life out of the man. Together, the three of them explored the house paying little attention to their exact replicas in the tubes. In master bedroom they found a scrap book containing clippings of their father’s death. Wordlessly, they agreed that there was nothing for them in Melbourne and that there was nothing to be gained for them by releasing the rest of the clones. They burned the house down, and then set out into the world, each going her own way.
Years later, the first of the three clones returned to the town. Several months later, the second clone returned as well. Almost exactly a year after the first clone, the third clone also returned to the town. Despite themselves, they were drawn to the place. They also regretted burning down the man’s house with all of the clones and cloning equipment inside of it. They all got jobs at the local supermarket, and spent all of their free time trying to figure out a way to continue the man’s work and clone themselves so that, once again, there would be an army of clones.
Showing posts with label Melbourne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Melbourne. Show all posts
Monday, March 11, 2013
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
The Family on the Train (A Quick Observation)
It was the family's first trip out of town. The three of them sat eagerly on the train, anxiously wondering if their fortunes would change in Melbourne.
To show his independence the son sat on a different set of four seats to his parents. But as soon as he heard the conductor announce that the train would be stopping at more stations and picking up more passengers he quickly rejoined his parents and sat next to his father. Despite their rough appearance, or maybe because of this, the family had interacted with few people outside of their little unit. The thought of sitting next to a stranger was just too much for the son.
As the train departed the station, the whole family played around with their own iPhone, the father and son showing each other the games they were playing and trying to beat the other's high score. The mother stared sullenly out the window listening to music through bright green earphones that matched the Monster can she was drinking from. Of the three of them, she was the least excited about their move to Melbourne. Probably because they were moving with only the clothes on their backs, their iPhones and whatever money they had in the pockets.
Not the best new beginning.
Especially when moving to a big city like Melbourne.
But she knew that it was their only choice. That they had to hope for the best once they arrived. Hope that at least one of the three could find find work go support the rest.
They all knew that their chances of finding working were bleak. But no one voiced this fear. Choosing to ignore that they could be stuck in a big, strange city with the friends or family and without any food and shelter. Without a way back home.
This was their last chance to survive.
None of them were willing to acknowledge that this venture could , and most probably would, fail. The consequences were too dire for them if it did.
To show his independence the son sat on a different set of four seats to his parents. But as soon as he heard the conductor announce that the train would be stopping at more stations and picking up more passengers he quickly rejoined his parents and sat next to his father. Despite their rough appearance, or maybe because of this, the family had interacted with few people outside of their little unit. The thought of sitting next to a stranger was just too much for the son.
As the train departed the station, the whole family played around with their own iPhone, the father and son showing each other the games they were playing and trying to beat the other's high score. The mother stared sullenly out the window listening to music through bright green earphones that matched the Monster can she was drinking from. Of the three of them, she was the least excited about their move to Melbourne. Probably because they were moving with only the clothes on their backs, their iPhones and whatever money they had in the pockets.
Not the best new beginning.
Especially when moving to a big city like Melbourne.
But she knew that it was their only choice. That they had to hope for the best once they arrived. Hope that at least one of the three could find find work go support the rest.
They all knew that their chances of finding working were bleak. But no one voiced this fear. Choosing to ignore that they could be stuck in a big, strange city with the friends or family and without any food and shelter. Without a way back home.
This was their last chance to survive.
None of them were willing to acknowledge that this venture could , and most probably would, fail. The consequences were too dire for them if it did.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Early Morning Energy
Most people fit into one of two groups; a morning person, capable of disgusting amounts of energy and cheerfulness at a horrible hour or not a morning person.
Guess which group I belong to.
Although, like just about everybody else, I have found a way to combat my morning drowsiness; a good strong cup of coffee or two in the morning ... seriously, the genious who invented coffee should become a saint. He/she can become the patron saint of the shiftworker, or anybody else who has to get up at odd and (usually) disgusting hours.
So naturally after my two very strong cups of coffee this morning I was feeling particuarly perky. Even if I did go a bit quiet on the train to Melbourne. But I perked right up again when we got to Sunshine, and while I was waiting for the train to pull up next to a platform at Southern Cross I had time to inspect the rest of the carriage;
Apart from a whispered conversation at the back, it was almost completely silent. Only a couple of other people besides me were stirring. Most were still sleeping.
And that's when it hit me;
I was the first out of my seat. I was the one bouncing excitedly on the balls of my feet. I was probably the one with the stupid cheerful grin plastered on my face.
I was one of them!
And by them I mean one of those disgustingly bright and cheerful morning people who everyone hates to be around until after mid morning (at the earliest).
I felt kind of indecent to be feeling so energetic.
At least things changed once I was off the train and mingled with the rest of the Melbournians who had already had their all important two cups* of morning coffee. The hustle and bustle of peak hour meant that being energetic and all that is a good thing. Not something to be ashamed of while on the train.
Still, it's not as bad as that time I merrily bounced into the servo at five am full of sickening cheerfulness and energy. I really did deserve the bleary eyed look f disgust from the other customers that day.
*two cups is just an estimated amount.
Guess which group I belong to.
Although, like just about everybody else, I have found a way to combat my morning drowsiness; a good strong cup of coffee or two in the morning ... seriously, the genious who invented coffee should become a saint. He/she can become the patron saint of the shiftworker, or anybody else who has to get up at odd and (usually) disgusting hours.
So naturally after my two very strong cups of coffee this morning I was feeling particuarly perky. Even if I did go a bit quiet on the train to Melbourne. But I perked right up again when we got to Sunshine, and while I was waiting for the train to pull up next to a platform at Southern Cross I had time to inspect the rest of the carriage;
Apart from a whispered conversation at the back, it was almost completely silent. Only a couple of other people besides me were stirring. Most were still sleeping.
And that's when it hit me;
I was the first out of my seat. I was the one bouncing excitedly on the balls of my feet. I was probably the one with the stupid cheerful grin plastered on my face.
I was one of them!
And by them I mean one of those disgustingly bright and cheerful morning people who everyone hates to be around until after mid morning (at the earliest).
I felt kind of indecent to be feeling so energetic.
At least things changed once I was off the train and mingled with the rest of the Melbournians who had already had their all important two cups* of morning coffee. The hustle and bustle of peak hour meant that being energetic and all that is a good thing. Not something to be ashamed of while on the train.
Still, it's not as bad as that time I merrily bounced into the servo at five am full of sickening cheerfulness and energy. I really did deserve the bleary eyed look f disgust from the other customers that day.
*two cups is just an estimated amount.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
A Sign That Things are About to Change?
I have a job interview for a position with as a studio photographer. Apart from my resume I also have to bring some of my photos so that they can see just what kind of eye I have.
Ok, no problem. That's actually quite easy.
Except for the fact that I currently don't have any photos with people in them that I'm happy with.
Still not exactly a problem.
I could've gone out yesterday and taken some. I was already out and about because of my CVGT appointment.
But I didn't
The weather was crappy and I was sleep deprived and was feeling a little wildly emotional. No taking photos for me yesterday.
I still had today though. Except that the weather was once again crappy and I just could not work up the energy to go out and face such cold crappy conditions even though the photography interview is on Thursday and I'm going to be in Melbourne all day (where I suppose I could take these much needed pictures ... this thought has only just occurred to me).
But then I was thrown a life line;
The photography studio rang me asking if it would be ok to reschedule the interview for Friday instead.
It's more than just ok, guys!
And now I have the chance to go and get pictures of people near Central Square and/or Sturt st.
I just sat back and hoped for the best, and that's exactly what happened ... well actually, the best would be for me to sit back and find that I magically have amazing pictures that will land me the job on my camera. But since the key word there is "magically" I'll just have to settle for this situation.
So now I'm kind of hoping that my luck as turned around and that this is a sign that soon I will no longer be under the thumbs of Centre Link and CVGT.
Ok, no problem. That's actually quite easy.
Except for the fact that I currently don't have any photos with people in them that I'm happy with.
Still not exactly a problem.
I could've gone out yesterday and taken some. I was already out and about because of my CVGT appointment.
But I didn't
The weather was crappy and I was sleep deprived and was feeling a little wildly emotional. No taking photos for me yesterday.
I still had today though. Except that the weather was once again crappy and I just could not work up the energy to go out and face such cold crappy conditions even though the photography interview is on Thursday and I'm going to be in Melbourne all day (where I suppose I could take these much needed pictures ... this thought has only just occurred to me).
But then I was thrown a life line;
The photography studio rang me asking if it would be ok to reschedule the interview for Friday instead.
It's more than just ok, guys!
And now I have the chance to go and get pictures of people near Central Square and/or Sturt st.
I just sat back and hoped for the best, and that's exactly what happened ... well actually, the best would be for me to sit back and find that I magically have amazing pictures that will land me the job on my camera. But since the key word there is "magically" I'll just have to settle for this situation.
So now I'm kind of hoping that my luck as turned around and that this is a sign that soon I will no longer be under the thumbs of Centre Link and CVGT.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Today's Trip to Melbourne
Today's trip to Melbourne was disappointing. Disappointing on all counts.
Well, almost all counts.
Usually when I go to Melbourne I see at least one nutter do something incrediably crazy. But no such luck today. The closest I came to seeing something like this was a couple of fools at the lights waiting for the green light to get the correct shade of green before going.
But still, I had the job interviews. Even if that meant many hours of waiting between them.
Actually, my first appointment wasn't really an interview. More of chance for me to pay the deposit for my photoshoot so that I can start working as an extra.
The other appointment was an interview. An interview for a sales job. I went in confident that I'd get the job. Apart from the almost face plant while talking, the phone interview went well.
After learning how many people applied for the job my confidence waned. I had about a three percent chance of being successful. Generally, I feel a lot more confident when my chances of being successful are significantly larger.
Still, I was promised to know by the end of the if I was successful or not. I wasn't. But at least I only had to anxiously keep checking my phone every couple of minutes for an hour instead of days.
Well, almost all counts.
Usually when I go to Melbourne I see at least one nutter do something incrediably crazy. But no such luck today. The closest I came to seeing something like this was a couple of fools at the lights waiting for the green light to get the correct shade of green before going.
But still, I had the job interviews. Even if that meant many hours of waiting between them.
Actually, my first appointment wasn't really an interview. More of chance for me to pay the deposit for my photoshoot so that I can start working as an extra.
The other appointment was an interview. An interview for a sales job. I went in confident that I'd get the job. Apart from the almost face plant while talking, the phone interview went well.
After learning how many people applied for the job my confidence waned. I had about a three percent chance of being successful. Generally, I feel a lot more confident when my chances of being successful are significantly larger.
Still, I was promised to know by the end of the if I was successful or not. I wasn't. But at least I only had to anxiously keep checking my phone every couple of minutes for an hour instead of days.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Today's Sojourn to Melbourne
I usually have to wait until I get on the train to Melbourne before I get to see something exciting. But not today!
Today I only had to walk down the road before I saw something;
There's this Greek guy who keeps walking shiftily up and down the street. So I didn't think anything of it when I saw him in the distance. When he turned around and I saw that part of his face was red, I at first thought he was some kind of demon.
But since that's a ridiculous idea, and the fact that he was weaving slightly as he walked, my next thought was that he was incrediably intoxicated and hadn't yet made it home and washed the face paint off.
How wrong I was.
It didn't take me long to realise that it wasn't face paint covering his face and head. It was blood!
The dodgy Greek guy had some kind of serious head injury.
Not that this stopped him from walking down the street while he waited for the police and (I hope) the ambulance. The police arrived on the scene before I had to decide if I wanted to be a good semaritan or ignore the bloodied Greek guy and catch my train.
The flashing police lights caught the attention of a nearby bogan, who felt the need to talk about what was happening. He reckoned that the Greek guy most likely owed someone money ... my belief is that it was him who had the money owing ... or he knows who was owed the money.
Unfortunately nothing else as exciting happened when I got into Melbourne, which is disappointing. Something usually happens in Melbourne, besides the planned events at Fed Square (I think there was some kind of fire eating display there today).
But on the Metro train back to Southern Cross I did learn that bumbags make anyone look like a dweep. There is absolutely nothing cool about bumbags. Not even the drug intoxicated, booze swilling stereotypical bogan can pull that look off without looking so uncool.
Ha! Now I'm implying that drug intoxicated, booze swilling stereotypical bogans are cool in the first place! They're so not. It's just that they're not exactly known to ever look dweepy and the kind of person who's easy to pick on.
Turns out that's exactly what they look like when they're wearing a bumbag!
So all in all, it was a pretty good day, and I hope Wednesday turns out to be just as good, if not better.
Today I only had to walk down the road before I saw something;
There's this Greek guy who keeps walking shiftily up and down the street. So I didn't think anything of it when I saw him in the distance. When he turned around and I saw that part of his face was red, I at first thought he was some kind of demon.
But since that's a ridiculous idea, and the fact that he was weaving slightly as he walked, my next thought was that he was incrediably intoxicated and hadn't yet made it home and washed the face paint off.
How wrong I was.
It didn't take me long to realise that it wasn't face paint covering his face and head. It was blood!
The dodgy Greek guy had some kind of serious head injury.
Not that this stopped him from walking down the street while he waited for the police and (I hope) the ambulance. The police arrived on the scene before I had to decide if I wanted to be a good semaritan or ignore the bloodied Greek guy and catch my train.
The flashing police lights caught the attention of a nearby bogan, who felt the need to talk about what was happening. He reckoned that the Greek guy most likely owed someone money ... my belief is that it was him who had the money owing ... or he knows who was owed the money.
Unfortunately nothing else as exciting happened when I got into Melbourne, which is disappointing. Something usually happens in Melbourne, besides the planned events at Fed Square (I think there was some kind of fire eating display there today).
But on the Metro train back to Southern Cross I did learn that bumbags make anyone look like a dweep. There is absolutely nothing cool about bumbags. Not even the drug intoxicated, booze swilling stereotypical bogan can pull that look off without looking so uncool.
Ha! Now I'm implying that drug intoxicated, booze swilling stereotypical bogans are cool in the first place! They're so not. It's just that they're not exactly known to ever look dweepy and the kind of person who's easy to pick on.
Turns out that's exactly what they look like when they're wearing a bumbag!
So all in all, it was a pretty good day, and I hope Wednesday turns out to be just as good, if not better.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Interview in the Morning
Tomorrow I have an interview for a job. The interview is all the way in Melbourne, which means that I have to get up nice and early to be there at 8:30am.
That's going to be a nasty shock to my system, seeing how I'm so not a morning person and probably won't be able to get to sleep until a couple of hours before I'm supposed to be at the train station.
But nonetheless, this isn't causing me any undue concern.
I function pretty well on no sleep ... and I usually function a hell of a lot better on no sleep than I do with little sleep. So I'm seriously considering just staying up all night and when it gets close to getting ready time, I'll just pep myself up on coffee.
I'd take sleeping pills, but I'm pretty sure they're placebos; they don't actually do anything to help me get to sleep.
But anyways, considering the ungodliness of the hour that I have to leave for the train station, I decided to show some forethought and look up the venue today so I know how far away it is from Spencer St (turns out two blocks).
Naturally I used Google Maps for this so that it could clearly highlight my destination on the map for me. It left me wondering why does Google Maps always insist on giving you directions for the most convoluted way there? Why can't it just give you directions for the most direct route?
I know this is a bad example, considering how short my trip is, but ...
When I could easily walk up Colins St!
How much easier is that?
So now that I have simplified my walk to the interview, I'm basically all set for the interview tomorrow, sleep or no sleep!
Hooray!
That's going to be a nasty shock to my system, seeing how I'm so not a morning person and probably won't be able to get to sleep until a couple of hours before I'm supposed to be at the train station.
But nonetheless, this isn't causing me any undue concern.
I function pretty well on no sleep ... and I usually function a hell of a lot better on no sleep than I do with little sleep. So I'm seriously considering just staying up all night and when it gets close to getting ready time, I'll just pep myself up on coffee.
I'd take sleeping pills, but I'm pretty sure they're placebos; they don't actually do anything to help me get to sleep.
But anyways, considering the ungodliness of the hour that I have to leave for the train station, I decided to show some forethought and look up the venue today so I know how far away it is from Spencer St (turns out two blocks).
Naturally I used Google Maps for this so that it could clearly highlight my destination on the map for me. It left me wondering why does Google Maps always insist on giving you directions for the most convoluted way there? Why can't it just give you directions for the most direct route?
I know this is a bad example, considering how short my trip is, but ...
When I could easily walk up Colins St!
How much easier is that?
So now that I have simplified my walk to the interview, I'm basically all set for the interview tomorrow, sleep or no sleep!
Hooray!
Friday, June 17, 2011
How About Incentive to Actually Get Work?
Yeah, so. I don't know if you're aware of this little fact or not, but I'm currently enrolled in a pre-employment program that lands me a guaranteed interview at the end of it.
So yay me for that little achievement.
But it's not in Ballarat.
I have to travel to Melbourne every day to get to class.
It's not too bad, even if it is a little costly for someone struggling to live off Centre Link.
But no worries, right? As part of my Centre Link conditions I now have a job employment agency to help me out. And as it turns out, job employment agencies supposedly help people with them with these costs.
So I took myself down to CVGT to see if they'll help me out with my train fares, because that extra $90 is everything when you're only form of income is the pittance Centre Link pays.
Turns out that my employment status isn't urgent enough for CVGT to be able to help me out. As a Stream one person, the government is more than happy to punish me for being unemployed, but won't help me with costs for finding work.
It's as though they secretly want people to remain unemployed for as long as possible. At the moment it feels as though I should just drop out of the course I'm currently in and wait until I'm in a higher stream and am guaranteed the financial assistance that I so desperately need.
The way things are currently, I really can't see any benefit to doing this course if I can't afford to buy food. I feel as though I should just wait until I'm in a more urgent stream before continuing with this course.
I thought the government wanted to lower unemployment, not encourage it.
If they were really serious about lowering it, they would have the lower streams getting the financial aid, instead of waiting for the doll bludgers to reach a really urgent stage of unemployment before handing out financial assistance.
They should be rewarding people who actually go out and actively do things that will help get them a job.
But this would, of course, mean that the government would actually be thinking about something and doing it effectively. And we all know that that's impossible.
So yay me for that little achievement.
But it's not in Ballarat.
I have to travel to Melbourne every day to get to class.
It's not too bad, even if it is a little costly for someone struggling to live off Centre Link.
But no worries, right? As part of my Centre Link conditions I now have a job employment agency to help me out. And as it turns out, job employment agencies supposedly help people with them with these costs.
So I took myself down to CVGT to see if they'll help me out with my train fares, because that extra $90 is everything when you're only form of income is the pittance Centre Link pays.
Turns out that my employment status isn't urgent enough for CVGT to be able to help me out. As a Stream one person, the government is more than happy to punish me for being unemployed, but won't help me with costs for finding work.
It's as though they secretly want people to remain unemployed for as long as possible. At the moment it feels as though I should just drop out of the course I'm currently in and wait until I'm in a higher stream and am guaranteed the financial assistance that I so desperately need.
The way things are currently, I really can't see any benefit to doing this course if I can't afford to buy food. I feel as though I should just wait until I'm in a more urgent stream before continuing with this course.
I thought the government wanted to lower unemployment, not encourage it.
If they were really serious about lowering it, they would have the lower streams getting the financial aid, instead of waiting for the doll bludgers to reach a really urgent stage of unemployment before handing out financial assistance.
They should be rewarding people who actually go out and actively do things that will help get them a job.
But this would, of course, mean that the government would actually be thinking about something and doing it effectively. And we all know that that's impossible.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
My Melbourne Sojourn
This afternoon's little trip to Melbourne really was one of the most exciting one's I've ever had.
V-line didn't help things at all. In fact, thanks to V-line, I was beginning to worry that it was going to be a very so so trip.
That must of been some kind of record for V-line with that epic amount of delays I experienced on the train there; after Ballan, the train had to wait for five minutes before or at every station. Sometimes even both! And then there was the three or four delays between North Melbourne and Southern Cross.
But at least things picked up from there;
I was amused to find an empty bottle of wine and a copy of Women's Weekly in the toilet cubicle once I was the station. Apparently now train station toilet cubicles are the place to have parties. We should remember that for future parties.
Then I unexpectantly ran into a former housemate. Not in the cubicle. I wasn't in the mood for a party. I ran into her at the taps. Both of equally surprised to see the other. Under her eyes were all red, like really red, as though she'd been hit in both eyes ... I wanted to ask her about this, but I felt that a very busy station toilet at peak hour really wasn't the time and the place for what could be very private.
On the tram to the info session that was the whole reason why I was in Melbourne some dude got his arm trapped by the door when the driver opened it. Considering how packed the tram was (the old saying about sardines just doesn't give this tram justice), I'm surprised that only one person ended up trappped. It was made even funnier that it was his stop and the tram driver couldn't figure out how to close the door to free him.
Then my evening dipped a bit. But that's to be expected; they're supposed to be informative. If they're interesting, that's a bonus. But at least the bloke talking to us seemed to have some showmanship, and was able to keep us from falling asleep. He didn't even have any powerpoint presentations ... maybe that's why no one fell asleep during the talk; he interacted with us the whole time instead of hiding behind the powerpoint presentation.
But what really capped the night was what happened on the train ride home;
There was this really lovey dovey couple sitting near me. They appeared to be too old to be showing so much public affection the way they were. So I merely assumed that they're both cheating on their partners.
I was proven wrong.
After an intense kiss with him on his knee in front of her, he leapt to his feet and joyfully shouted, "I'm getting married!"
His attempt to mimick the magic of the movies failed dismally.
No one reacted.
Ok, a few people might have looked up. But nothing more than that ... until he sat down muttering something to his mrs; the guys seated behind him (and next to me) started sniggering. I doubt they were the only ones.
So while they have their crummy memory of the train proposal and the failed attempt at getting some of the magic of the movies, the rest of us have a very humourous memory of that epic fail.
But, seriously, who proposes on a train?
Now that I've stopped laughing at the whole thing, I can't help but wonder who does this?
People who fail to recreate the magic of the movies, that's who!
V-line didn't help things at all. In fact, thanks to V-line, I was beginning to worry that it was going to be a very so so trip.
That must of been some kind of record for V-line with that epic amount of delays I experienced on the train there; after Ballan, the train had to wait for five minutes before or at every station. Sometimes even both! And then there was the three or four delays between North Melbourne and Southern Cross.
But at least things picked up from there;
I was amused to find an empty bottle of wine and a copy of Women's Weekly in the toilet cubicle once I was the station. Apparently now train station toilet cubicles are the place to have parties. We should remember that for future parties.
Then I unexpectantly ran into a former housemate. Not in the cubicle. I wasn't in the mood for a party. I ran into her at the taps. Both of equally surprised to see the other. Under her eyes were all red, like really red, as though she'd been hit in both eyes ... I wanted to ask her about this, but I felt that a very busy station toilet at peak hour really wasn't the time and the place for what could be very private.
On the tram to the info session that was the whole reason why I was in Melbourne some dude got his arm trapped by the door when the driver opened it. Considering how packed the tram was (the old saying about sardines just doesn't give this tram justice), I'm surprised that only one person ended up trappped. It was made even funnier that it was his stop and the tram driver couldn't figure out how to close the door to free him.
Then my evening dipped a bit. But that's to be expected; they're supposed to be informative. If they're interesting, that's a bonus. But at least the bloke talking to us seemed to have some showmanship, and was able to keep us from falling asleep. He didn't even have any powerpoint presentations ... maybe that's why no one fell asleep during the talk; he interacted with us the whole time instead of hiding behind the powerpoint presentation.
But what really capped the night was what happened on the train ride home;
There was this really lovey dovey couple sitting near me. They appeared to be too old to be showing so much public affection the way they were. So I merely assumed that they're both cheating on their partners.
I was proven wrong.
After an intense kiss with him on his knee in front of her, he leapt to his feet and joyfully shouted, "I'm getting married!"
His attempt to mimick the magic of the movies failed dismally.
No one reacted.
Ok, a few people might have looked up. But nothing more than that ... until he sat down muttering something to his mrs; the guys seated behind him (and next to me) started sniggering. I doubt they were the only ones.
So while they have their crummy memory of the train proposal and the failed attempt at getting some of the magic of the movies, the rest of us have a very humourous memory of that epic fail.
But, seriously, who proposes on a train?
Now that I've stopped laughing at the whole thing, I can't help but wonder who does this?
People who fail to recreate the magic of the movies, that's who!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)