signs

My penchant for antisocial behaviour continues to escalate. Most recently, I've taken to walking alone in the neighbourhood around midnight.

On the way to the waterfront I pass a primary school, a retirement village, and usually a bunch of teenagers (different ones each time) who greet me, when they do, with "Good morning", "Good afternoon", etc. Once I reach the river I head towards a small jetty 30 minutes (at a leisurely pace) away. It is a cruisy, scenic, albeit poorly lit route. I have my mp3 player and my older-than-N man-sneakers, and for an hour and a half I'm the queen of the world.

Last night I wore uniform trackpants kept from my 2-month stint at a Chn secondary school - back in 1995, and a green flannel shirt I've had since age 11 - buttoned all the way up. Night before last was overcast, stormy, and the river moving fast; standing on that jetty, I felt like a character (and not one that survives to the end) in some B-grade Jap black-&-white horror flick.

But even an aspiring recluse needs a break from hermitude now and again. Which is why tonight I broke the habit and went to hang out at Shell & Tez's instead. There was pizza, gossip (in part relating to Channel 7's newest weekend weather presenter), photo-flaunting, and (atypically) no alcohol. I showed them Kenny, confident of a warm reception: they (or rather, we) appreciate and share Kenny's linguistic style; heck, one of the boyfriends even looks a bit like Kenny.