Coolibah: Two Women, A Man And A Boat.

He gets up from under his piss reeking hollow beneath the coolibah. Reaching his hand out, he moves towards me, stumbling, gurgling, hocking… Briefly I think he might just pass out before he reaches me, but with all the awkwardness of a drunken stupor he manages to intersect my path of travel.

‘Excuse me mister,’ he begins and lunges forward in an instant of awareness, trying to shake my hand. But I’ve learnt that this is a ploy in which he uses to iron glove your hand, letting go only when you have become too exhausted with his stench and hand over the coin.

‘Do you have two dollar for me brother?’ he adds seeing his window closing when I ignore his plea to hold hands and do his dance.

‘Yeah mate,’ I reply digging my wallet out, I pass over two bucks.

‘Excuse me mister, but you haven’t got some more do ya,’ he continues after he secures the first coin in his stiff grip.

‘No,’ I say, but I see him pointing to the five dollars stick out of my wallet.

‘Well what the fuck am I supposed to buy with two dollars,’ his tone becomes aggressive. CPI index must be a big concern around here!

‘Fuck off,’ I stop him here, I’m rude and I don’t give a shit. I already know every possible situation, none of which will be a thank you.

‘Arh fuck you cunt, you stole my country, fuck off!’ he begins to shout, but I carry on walking to work. He follows for a few steps with his fists clenched, then tires and turns away.