Saturday, 26 May 2018

Getting some Indian for lunch

“You’ve got to stop walking under my legs,” said a man to his small son in Darling Harbour as they walked north in a family group.

I went up Bathurst Street to Oxford Street and had some Indian for lunch. On the way back west after having eaten I overheard a man talking with his companion as they walked down the street. “Because the Sichuan is very, very spicy,” the man said. They were talking about a restaurant. The man wore a jacket that was made of cloth in two tones of blue, as well as white. His companion had hair that was dyed orange. Both wore shorts.

I saw a man begging with his dog on Oxford Street. The dog was chunky like a Staffordshire terrier and the man was stroking the standing animal’s back with his right hand as he sat there on the pavement. I offered him the few coins I had in my pocket and he took the change in his left hand and thanked me for stopping.

Further down on Liverpool Street outside the courthouse I saw two Mormons with name badges on their white shirt-sleeved shirts talking with a young man on the street. A young woman handed a dropped black cardigan to one of two elders as he was talking. “Oh thank you,” he said to her.

As I was walking along Union Street in Pyrmont there were four teenage girls, all aged about thirteen, walking in the same direction as me. I walked across the road ahead of them and they followed up behind me on the pavement. One of them bellowed out in a loud, masculine voice, “Just do it!” to make fun of me, as I was wearing my black Nike slicker with the red swash on it. I saw them again later on, on Harris Street, walking ahead of me, and I crossed the road to ensure I didn’t attract their attention again.

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