On the tram to the planet Bogan

Life would be very dull without drunks and n’er-do-wells. I was on my way to Richmond last night, and was sitting next to a great blousy pissed sheila with a heart of gold. You know the sort – she’d bailed up some man with a briefcase and was bellowing her life story at the top of her lungs – while he shuffled and ‘h’mmmed’ politely.

When I sat down, she was boasting about how she’d made it to Pension day without spending too much.

Chick: Ya nah, a pot’s only $2.60 at Hosie’s…and if you go round the corner to Young & Jackson’s….the same thing is $3.60!
Chap: Goodness me.
Chick: Fuck’n ripoff, mate. Although it’s pretty good down there – there’s all types. I met like a doctor today, two teachers, even some old guys who’d been in the war! Hah!
Chap: Wow.

Then the young bloke opposite me scooted over to sit by the window. She whipped around.

Chick: Hey! You moved away from me because I’m not young and bewdiful didn’t ya? Didn’t ya?

I saw his Adam’s apple wobble.

Chick: Don’t crap ya self! I’m only playing. But you wouldn’t a done that twenty years ago, eh. Eh??

She dropped her quarry after he made more feeble stammers and mumbling noises. Then they moved onto Literature. At this point I pulled out my notebook and began taking notes, like I was at the inaugural lecture of the University of Hard Knocks. All the while praying she wouldn’t pick on me.

Chick: So we read To Kill a Mockingbird. I didn’t understand a fk’n word of it. Then Tim, and then we read Jonathon Livingstone Seagull – booring!
Chap (attempting to sound Literary): Did you ever read The Secret Diary Of Anna Frank?
Chick: Nuh. But we did do I’ll Cry Tomorrow by Lillian Roth. Me grandmother gave it to me – she was an alco, too. I bawled buckets at the end.

The rest of the tram was agog by now.

Chick: Yeah, I hate reading books that aren’t real.
Chap: Oh, yes.
Chick: I got a real problem, me. I’ll black out, and won’t remember what I’m doing. Then I’ll call me Mum and I’m on Burwood Highway. And I won’t even know how I got there! I think she’s a bit sick of it.
Chap (faintly): Heavens…
Chick: Yep, I’m borderline!

Then she leaned over and started whispering to him in a hoarse undertone. The rest of the tram strained as well, but all we could hear was “dry”, “fucked up”, “my friend’s kids” and “once a month I go mental”. Then as she got off, she started shouting again.

Chap: You should write a story of your life.
Chick: Nah, mate. No-one would believe me. My ex ran me over you know! The Aboriginals got me on to the wine and spirits!

Then the doors clanged shut and we watched her bowl away arm-in-arm with her mate. The tram collectively re-inserted its iPod. I think this kind of diversion is almost worth the price of a ticket.

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8 thoughts on “On the tram to the planet Bogan

  1. ahahahahaha!I love crazy bus people (a ‘tram’ is a bus, right? i’m from Canada, we have the most boring words:(). Met the most mentally dangerous ol’lady yesterday on my way downtown. Tiny & cute but that’s how they get you – just as you least expect it, they strike you down! Sneaky minxes, they are…Beware. 😉

  2. E, if San was the blonde one, then it was she! Only slightly more pissed – I think she would have thought I was ‘fookin huuuuge’.Vapidly Vibrant!! Another north-Amerikan with an Aussie complex!! We love your kind (only because you rave about our accents, while everone else in the world curses them).First thing ye must know aboot Orstraya: a tram is…a tram. And a bus is a bus. Trams: run on kangaroo poo and Fosters. The old ones look like the car in the FLinstones – we just pick them up and run down the road…seriously….google it.

  3. Right! Of course, a tram! Um, yes…Carry on. (I’m also French Canadian, if that’s at alla saving grace, and don’t handle my liquor very well…Yes that is my excuse and i’m sticking with it…G’day ;))

  4. Kristen: oh but I do! Didn’t you cook about 7000 chooks? Wonderful! I also noted the Peel Fresh juice on the table – happy memories!Pomgirl: right on. Come the revolution all transport shall be free (I dream on, but it is a nice dream)Vapidly Vibrant: Oho! A French Canuckian! Well that is entirely different and you are forgiven your eccentricities. Do you live in Montreal? Do you know the amount of schtick I’ve received over here for my Foufounes Electrique t-shirt?

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