City Quickie

So I’m in a restaurant with a couple of mates.  They’re city girls.  I live in a city now, and have done before, but I’m not a city girl in my soul.  I had just spent a decade living in a small village (well, it’s considered a town, because it has a market charter, long story blah de blah, but population-wise, it’s a village), and my brain slowed down while I was there.

Now, you might think I’m being scathing about country folk.  I most certainly am not.  Ones brain slowing down is a GOOD thing.  I find a lot of city people think too fast… or more accurately they don’t give themselves time to think. It’s moving on from one thing to the next in a heartbeat without a moment to reflect.  Not just reflect upon the important things, but upon the minutiae of life as well… just to double check on it’s sometimes absurdity.

No time, no time. I’m late, I’m late for a very important date.

Far too many white rabbits running around cities.

So.  Back to the restaurant.  We sit down, all very nice.  One of my friends is the queen of impatience – don’t get me wrong, I love her like a sister – but she’s very short – not in stature but in manner (well, she’s not tall either).  So, she’s already put the waiter slightly offside by implying that he wasn’t too clever in asking her if she wanted table water (bottled, still and free) when she’d already ordered sparkling water (bottled, bubbling and expensive) from another waiter.

We get menus.  I start to peruse the menu.  It’s shared platter stuff – mezze if you will.  I start to read.

They start to order.  Hang on, my slow brain (just typed Brian then – perhaps that will be my nickname for my brain from now on, Yo Brian what the fuck were you thinking?).  Hang on, my ‘Brian’ is thinking… I haven’t even read this stuff yet.

Now… can I point out – because I cannot bear to disparage myself – I’m a clever person.  The brain slowing down thing doesn’t mean less clever, less knowledgeable, or less intelligent.  It just means less frantic about everything.

So intellectually…. I’m clever, I’m witty, I’m fast like the fox…

But, this is ordering… in a restaurant… from a menu… in my down time… I can take my time right.  Enjoy the process… be in the moment man.

No, clearly not.

So, my mate begins, in rapid-fire question mode, as if I’m some kind of slow-poke, down-home, dueling-banjos type, who is incapable of making decisions.

What are you going to order Rooshkie?  What about the meatballs, I fancy meatballs.

My lips part in an attempt to respond.

Oh no that’s right you don’t eat meat.

I’m about to say… “No, I don’t eat meat, therefore balls of meat are probably not going to be my first choice – call me a crazy sonofabitch.”

But I can’t.  We’ve moved on.

So, Rooshkie are you drinking wine?  Red or white?  Red, that’s right.  What about this one….

*barely points to one choice in a choice of many so that I simply can’t see which one*

“Yes, fine.”,  I say.

So, Rooshkie, have you decided… what about the zucchini fritters… you’d like those.

“Yes.  I’d like those.”, I say mechanically.

So, Rooshkie… anything else… I fancy the pizza, what about pizza, do you want pizza?

“Um.” (I didn’t fancy the pizza particularly) but I said… “Yes, pizza… goooood.”, in a fairly convincing impersonation of Homer Simpson.

We eat.  It’s pretty good.  The wine is fine.  We chat… we begin to slow down.

Actually… They….  begin… to… slow… down.

That’s better girls… this… is… more… my… pace.

‘Brian’ is much happier now.

Next week my lovelies, Egg Zackly.

rooshkie. x.




I’d written a piece that included the phrase, ‘I bet the Buddha had a great SOH’.   (yeah, I know, I expect he’ll want a quiet word when I arrive at the pearly gates of Nirvana, maybe he’ll tell me a joke).

My editor put a Q-mark next to it. I thought…. What?, you don’t know what SOH stands for?    You need to get out more!  Or, more accurately, you need to stay in more… and read the personals.  SOH means sense of humour.

I’m English.. mostly, a quarter Irish (bit of gypsy chucked in there somewhere).  But I’ve spent 20 odd years living in Australia.  So I find Brit Wit hilarious, and a lot of Aussie humour pretty funny as well.

But there are some things that do not cross cultural boundaries.  If there’s an Australian joke that is predicated upon something endemically Australian, then telling someone who’s never been to Oz, may not fly.

I once told a joke to a woman friend in the UK, who had a great SOH, if a bit ribald.  I thought she’d find it hilarious.  She emphatically did not.

It goes like this, and astonishingly, my Mum (who also is English), told me this one.

Aussie bloke walks into a pub.

Spots a woman he fancies and walks up to her.

He says, ‘G’day sheila, do ya f**k?’.

She says, ‘I do NOW, ya smooth talkin’ bastard’.

Ha ha ha.  That had me in peals.  I love this joke so much.  When I told men, they laughed and laughed.

My female English friend said, in a tight lipped fashion, ‘Well, you and I must have a very different sense of humour’.  Wow, that took the wind out of my sails PDQ.

For the people like my editor who have acronymophobia …That’s Pretty Damn Quick.

If you do a search on an Acronym dictionary – try it, they’re wild; you come across all of these things you’ve never heard of – there are at least twenty results for S.O.H.  Some pretty obvious, some incredibly obscure…

For example…

SOH – Sydney Opera House.  (Fair enough Ya Flamin’ Galah.)

SOH – Stock On Hand.  (Yep, I’m good with that one.)

SOH – Sons of Hodir.  (Bloody World of Warcraft !!!)

SOH – Sine is Opposite divided by Hypotenuse.  (Oh My Mathematical Lord, that’s a trigonometry acronym, there’s no way in Hell I would have known that one !!!   YOU do the math… because I can’t!)

SOH – South of Heaven (What-the-what? – where on Earth does that come from?)  According to Wikipedia (Thank you Wikipedia – where would I be without you, you are my other brain)…

“South of Heaven is the fourth studio album by American THRASH METAL band Slayer.  Slayer’s previous album was Reign in Blood”. (Eeeewww).

Next week my lovelies, Quickie and the City


rooshkie  x