One of my regulars, a flamboyantly dressed gentleman with a rather camp voice tells me he is “73 and has 5 children by 4 different women – and ten grandchildren.”
He’s in the construction industry, but would rather be a singer and sometimes does perform in clubs. He has a lot of blingy jewelry, a big watch (sadly wasted on me as I have no ability to judge what’s real and what’s costume with jewelry) and an obsession with staying young, He dies his hair “and I’ve spent 10,000 dollars on this nose and I’m thinking of going back and having these re-done.” He rubs the spot on his temples where laughter lines normally grow. His are oddly smooth and shiny. I tell him he looks fine.
“Aren’t you lovely,” he says. He’s a sweet guy.
He’s not so open with everyone. I caught him talking to a younger, prettier woman the other day.
“Yes I’m 73 and have ten grandchildren. You wouldn’t know, would you? Nobody thinks I look 73. I eat a lot of vegetables. I swear by them.”
Clearly he doesn’t tell everyone his secrets. Probably he doesn’t think me worth impressing. But I can live with that.
Horses and birds
Around mid-afternoon the cleaning and catering staff from the hospital come in. I avoid one older woman with badly dyed red hair and a long Australian face, because, as she plods up the ramp like an old horse, all she does is moan at the lateness of trains and how that terrible hill up to the station will be the end of her after a long shift. You cannot get a smile from her. She’s a glass completely empty kind of person.
The small group of Nepalese staff are more like a flock of noisy sparrows, no doubt bonded by their shared experiences of displacement, They’re puffed out by the hill but happy to chat and joke about late trains. Lately I’m delighted to see they have taken the Australian woman under their wing. They gather round her laughing, dragging and chivying her along, all puffing up the hill together to make the train. She smiles more these days.
OMG. I’ve just written a parable about the virtues of immigration. All taken from life, I assure you.
Railway stations are also market places. I’ve seen people selling bikes and I’m pretty certain a lot of drugs change hands.
But this is unexpected – the alleged sale of a sugar glider, seen in the hands of the middle woman, for 1 thousand dollars in the waiting room at North Melbourne station.
Deeply illegal and bad for the environment. ( not so great for the sugar glider either.)
Station staff noticed and reported it to the police, but I don’t know the outcome.
Here is the article from The Flinders News
CCTV footage of the sale of a sugar glider From The Flinders News
Three women are being sought over the alleged trade of a live Sugar Glider at a Melbourne train station.
Police have released CCTV images of three women after the alleged possession and trade of the native animal at North Melbourne station on February 12, about 1pm.
The first woman is described as Caucasian, in her 50s, with blonde bob-length hair and wearing a black cardigan, blue shirt and grey pants.
The second woman is perceived to be Asian, in her 30s, with black hair in a high ponytail. She was wearing a grey cardigan and black-and-white printed dress.
The third woman is described as Caucasian, in her 20s, wearing a grey hoodie covering her face and red spotted pyjama pants.
The Victorian Department of Environment says it has intercepted hundreds of native species being illegally trafficked in recent months.
“We continue to pursue offenders in a bid to stop these cruel, illegal practices. Help us put an end to wildlife being trafficked, traded, and traumatised.”