Tag: public transport

1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

If I’d taken the time to get to know her before going out with her, I never would have gone out with her.

Sunday, 8 September 1996  12:02pm Hey Sis, I’m in on the weekend, I feel so righteous.  I was in yesterday too.  Perhaps that’s why I slept so well last night – sleep of the righteous and all that. Tram Anecdote No. 643. Came in on the 11:26 tram.  Sat next to – well, adjacent to if you want to be precise – some guy with … Continue reading If I’d taken the time to get to know her before going out with her, I never would have gone out with her.

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

We call him Nuff Nuff because whenever he’s near you, all you want to shout is ‘Enough! Enough!’

Friday, 24 May 1996  8:24am Dear S, I thought I’d open this one traditionally, with a ‘Dear…’ Haven’t done anything since yesterday.  The traffic of books through my Flemington abode is about all I’m up to these days.  Finished the Truman Capote (I really like the name Truman) last night.  Finished an Agatha Christie (The Pale Horse).  Started Alice Walker’s Possessing the Secret of Joy … Continue reading We call him Nuff Nuff because whenever he’s near you, all you want to shout is ‘Enough! Enough!’

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

Men with jowls don’t dance. 

Friday, 10 May 1996  8:35am It’s a New Age for J, Sis.  I had a bit of a revelation last night.  I was shaving after a bath to soothe away the rigours of the day, and I noticed something in my face I’d never spied before.  I’m getting jowls.  I’ve put on weight, and I’m getting jowls.  They’re embryonic jowls to be sure, but the … Continue reading Men with jowls don’t dance. 

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

It’s not the meek that shall inherit the earth, it’s the technologically literate.

Thursday, 9 May 1996  8:30am Howdy S, Spoke to Mum on the phone yesterday.  We chit-chatted. Aunty Marge is coming down for the weekend for some genealogy grave-robbing gig with Ma. So anyway, we’re chattin’ away, and Mum Says ‘Oh your sister called on Sunday by the way.  ‘Really, how is she?  What’s she doing?  ‘Well, it was so early, I answered the phone all … Continue reading It’s not the meek that shall inherit the earth, it’s the technologically literate.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

How the Hell can someone have B.O. at 8:45 in the bloody morning? How?!

Friday, 1 September 1995 9:14am I’m here.  I made it!  Roasted – purified – by the flames of public transport.  Lordy it was a trial.  You just never know what’s in store for you.  I’m standing there at the tram stop, waiting to be whooshed along tram arteries to the sticky furious heart of the city, pounding, pounding, pounding.  I get on, move to a spot … Continue reading How the Hell can someone have B.O. at 8:45 in the bloody morning? How?!

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m a prisoner of urban sterility. I feel like doing something ridiculous – yep I’m gonna sit on the grass!

Thursday, 17 August 1995 9:07am S Geez, it’s been busy here, we’ve only got ’til Monday until the final “Who The Fuck Cares” proof comes out.  And I’ve been stressed to death trying to work up the gumption to ask for a raise.  It’s so difficult, how do you do it?  Do you have a particular mantra that you intone in an undertone as you … Continue reading I’m a prisoner of urban sterility. I feel like doing something ridiculous – yep I’m gonna sit on the grass!

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