literally another aussie in london

puddles

One of my closest Australian friends has moved to London for love.

This might be a move for years, or for minutes.

The other day we were walking down the street and an elderly couple looked at us aghast,s hare some quick words, looked straight at us and stopped walking.

In the seconds that followed I had many thoughts go through my head.

Are these people homophobic?

Do they hate Aussies?

Can they tell my friend is wearing skins?

None of the above.

This elderly couple (she looked like a cartoon witch, him the dude who sniffs your clothes at the bus stop) saw that a car was coming close to the curve and that a puddle was there and could splash them.

I get why they stopped.

Who wants to get wet.

But why the fuck didn’t they tell us about this car.

The witch and I had eye contact, they were only 10 metres away, and there was a few seconds to warn us as they could see the car and we couldn’t.

Instead my first indication of the puddle was hearing the water spalsh and then my quick turn and effeminate jump to make sure I didn’t get that wet.

Luckily I had on my big WWII coat and didn’t get that wet, neither did my friend.

Then as we passed the couple the lady looks at us and says, “that’s why we stopped”.

Thank you, bitch.

Thank you so much for only communicating with us to tell us how glad you were that you didn’t get wet and we did.

Why would we have wanted any warning before hand, surely it was better for us to leap up and get wet, and then listen to you rub it in.

Welcome to London, Doyle.

February 19, 2010 Posted by Jrod | living in london | puddles | 4 Comments