Saturday, May 21, 2016

Laughter In Grumpy & The Dreaded One's Little Cafe Of Awesome

Kafka Woman has become a reasonably important feature of my life at the moment. We work together every day now. She is great to work with. When she first came into my life I thought it was a one-off encounter. Both times she came to the cafe after that, I thought they were the last times I would see her. You might remember that I spoke of her peace and serenity.

I liked her instantly, even though I didn't know her. I didn't know then that I would be working with her.

What I really, really didn't know - probably not until quite some time into working with her - was how much of our time would be spent laughing. I tend to say that I am not a laugher. I'm going to have to stop saying that, because when I am with Kafka Woman (Loredana), I am quite the laugher. And it's a wonderful thing. Proper, uncontrollable laughter. The stuff that kids enjoy. The sound of their laugh is making you worse. Just don't look at them - not even in your peripheral vision - and you might just get this fit of laughter under control.

We talk about a lot of life stuff. We're like friends. Something on your mind? Want to talk about it? Or we just talk about what we got up to on the weekend or the night before. We talk about music and writing and great books we've read. The conversation is pretty well rounded. Whimsy features frequently.

We get interrupted a lot... A LOT... by customers. Kafka Woman suggested that we might need a sign to tell customers that they cannot enter because we are talking. The above sign came to me and I wrote it up intending to just show her for a laugh. We laughed. Then I put it up on the door. The reactions from the customers was a source of laughter for the rest of the day. That day (yesterday), I have never spent so much time on any job laughing.

She has a joyous, infectious laugh, does Kafka Woman. And that's the thing with laughter - it really is infectious. At one point both of us were useless with laughter. I was struggling to make one of the regulars their coffee. I kept trying to compose myself, but I'd hear Kafka Woman sqeak with repressed laughter, and I was fucked all over again.

I wiped a tear from my eye as I turned to give the customer her coffee and told her, "Man that was hard work." When I looked at her, she was chuckling. She had no idea what we were laughing about, but she was laughing. She thanked me and turned to leave, and she was still giggling to herself as she left the cafe.

I am still feeling residual happiness today. I've always known that laughter is good. It's why I like to write funny stuff. To actually indulge in it a lot though... man, it's better than drugs.

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

The Ship Of Perfect Things

He had a dream
That he wasn't sure was a dream,
And in this possible dream
He saw a sunset,
The perfect sunset.

He saw a horizon,
And he saw some kind of boat,
A ship of perfect things,
It carried all of his memories
And all of his friends
And all of the places he had ever lived
And all of the places that he had ever seen.

And he watched this perfect collection
Of his favourite things
And his favourite people,
His favourite dreams and memories,
Drift away from him.

And it was beautiful
And perfect,
Because as unlikely as it was,
All of it had all happened.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Love Is Enough

And in the end
In the cosmic jangle
He realised that he knew love,
Realised he had always known love.
He loved her,
He loved them all,
And that  love,
That love was enough.

Friday, May 13, 2016

In The Cafe Today... Skateboard Girl



The skateboard is a low rumble roar along Gertrude Street as it approaches Deadman's Lane. I see her through the cafe's side window. She is a one second blur of cool. She's got long jet-black hair that trails in the wind, a long lacy skirt that does the same, dark patterned leggings beneath. She rumble-roars past the door, stops and kicks the back of her board, tips and catches. She does this just as I go through the door with a soy flat white for one of our regulars.

Heading back to the door, Skateboard Girl stops me and asks me if I am the manager. She asks me this in the accent of my favourite city.

Yes, I tell her, I am the manager.

I am looking for a job, she tells me, I am here from Barcelona and I am looking for a job.

I tell her we have nothing immediately. Kafka Woman has changed her plans and apparently I will be enjoying her company for a few more months. I can't express how grateful I am for this. I tell Skateboard Girl that I won't have anything for at least a couple of months. I tell her that Barcelona is my favourite city, and we chat briefly.

It was a cool little indie movie moment. It all happened in black and white, shot and directed by Jim Jarmusch.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

In Time, You And I Will Shine

Such a beautifully perfect love song. Absolute perfection.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Nanny Baird And His Nanny Burgers, Because His Nanny Lockout Laws Just Aren't Nanny Enough

After reading about the latest Nanny Baird government's exercise in over-regulation (ie: Nope To Medium Rare Hamburgers Due To Misinformation From Overseas Statistics), The Dreaded One and I had a bit of a discussion on the topic of this and the qualifications and experience of council inspectors. I imagined the next-door neighbours over-hearing our discussion and having a discussion of their own:

Bill: Ooh it sounds like Grumpy and The Dreaded One are having a pretty heavy domestic.

Murray: It certainly does. They are really shouting at each other.

Bill: And swearing! Fuck me what a pair of sweary motherfuckers. Really no need for that.

Murray: What's really weird is the argument seems to be about... hamburgers? Are they really arguing about the acceptable serving of hamburger patties?

Bill: Why yes, I do believe you are right, Murray.

Murray: And you know what's really weird, Bill?

Bill: No - what is really weird, Murray?

Murray: If you really listen... through all that shouting and screaming and swearing and things being hurled around the apartment in what is clearly uncontrollable rage... I think they are actually agreeing with each other.

Bill: Fuck me. Now that you mention it, Murray - I do believe you are right. They are actually just enjoying a kind of... orgy of anger at the abject stupidity of The Nanny Baird Government and over-regulation and the incompetence of clip-board muppets who are actually clueless as to how things really are. Those fucktard muppet health inspectors who drop into the kitchen dressed like they are going to an opera opening night instead of wearing regulation non-slip OH&S boots, overalls and high-vis vests... your eyes have kind of glazed over, Murray...

Murray: It was when you said orgy of anger... do you think we could, you know... have our own orgy of anger?

Bill: I don't see why not. Grumpy & The Dreaded One seem to have calmed down now. What do you want to get angry and shouty and orgy-ie about?

Murray: I don't know... how do you feel about Maitreya?

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

It's Fruity... And it's Fun

In a new favourite restaurant on Brunswick Street recently... waiter asks us how the rousanne is. We tell him it's lovely. He nods and earnestly surveys Brunswick Street like it's a battlefield, and like he's Russell Crowe playing Maximus in Gladiator. But instead of saying, "At my signal, unleash hell," (but in the same ominous tones), he says, "Yes... it's fruity, and it's fun."