An English fellow, he had been working with A.I.D.S. orphans in Africa for six months, had landed in Sydney to prop up a bar, press the alcoholic pause button. He said he didn't want to talk about it.
Turned out he did want to talk about it. When I asked he told me there were only two qualifications required for the work he'd been doing. The first was the ability to hug children and mean it, and not just cute kids. Snotty kids, scabby kids, smelly kids, dying kids, they all knew when you hugged them and didn't mean it. The other required skill was the ability to employ a shovel efficiently.
Then we laughed. I remember him laughing loudly when I called The Simpsons The Simmos, he thought it was hilariously Australian. He had plenty of money, from what I could pick up he could have bought the bar with cash, but he allowed me to buy him a couple of beers. He knew I wanted to.
We stumbled down the stairs together, parted ways.
"There is only love and death", he said as he shambled up the street.
Parkstreet
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