Judgement – Part 2

On a more humorous front and when I do so call “Judgement” I do it with subtlety. This is a watch and learn teaching moment. But in reading form.

About ten years ago, I was on a train on a Saturday morning with my then boyfriend, going to Preston to the markets. Saturday morning’s I set the standard if we were going, we would have to be there by 10am and out of there by 11am.

After that time, it was pointless being there because it is full of bargain hunters who try to get that last-minute special. My plan is to get there, hit it hard, then get the hell out of there and get home.

When I do the market, it’s generally vegies, meat, fresh pasta, rice, nuts, passata, meat, coffee/fresh biscuits, deli olives, cheese, fresh bread and did I mention meat? If I don’t spend at least $100 and stock up my fridge and freezer, I’ve wasted my time. Remember, I’m making my Nona proud.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My boyfriend hated going because he couldn’t work out where everything was and he had the job of pushing the shopping trolley (which you could easily wheel it behind you on its two wheels) but he was a little too tall and because literally five minutes after we got there he would need to use the bathroom. He had the ‘bladder like a sieve’. I mentioned his sense of direction, I would walk behind him and call out directions like a military Sargent, “Left” or “Right” when it was necessary for him to change directions.

I always found it quite humorous although he obviously hated being micromanaged as men do. However, I used to make our adventures so he would cope better.

Usually I would have to convince the boyfriend to return to the Preston Markets, which we would generally go once a month and I did this by way of his pocket. As it’s the language that directly speaks to men. “We can go to the supermarket and spend $200 or we can go to the Market and spend only $100, so we would go to the markets.

I would go to the supermarket weekly to get the groceries and he would refund me. I digress, oh my God, went way out of left field on this on. Kinda feel like the judgement part” is the punch line.

On the train journey there, we went five or six stops from home in Clifton Hill at the time, we encountered all kinds of people. People going to work, people going home, people going home from clubbing the night before. The really seedy types who looked like they had slept in their clothes on a park bench in the city, who looked a little worse for wear for their efforts.

One morning, a guy in his 20’s walked down the train isle towards us, who fitted into the latter category. T-shirt (dirty), jeans (dirty), messy hair and runners. As he headed in our direction, I turned my head slightly towards my right (where my boyfriend was seated) and muttered “haircut and belt.” He had seen him coming, also and made a little noise.

See? Subtle! (bitchy, sure) but subtle. And not every bit of commentary is for public consumption.