You are one of those people who stuff just happens to


You were supposed to be here. It is 1pm already and where are you? You always have an excuse of why you’re not on time, like it’s something the world has done to you. It’s never your fault. It’s the woman who stumbled getting on to the tram and the ambulance had to be called. It was the dog that you found without a collar or lead and what were you supposed to do, just walk away and leave it to wander off and get run over. What was it this time? Was it your friend who always happens to lose his wallet and just needs a few bucks for the train fare? Do you really think it is money for the train he wants? How do you know he’s not ducking into the Bottle-O for a long neck?
You are one of those people who stuff just happens to. Your car is always in at the mechanic. The phone company somehow didn’t get its last payment and they cut off your service. How is it that you get through life?
Remember the time your bathroom at home was being renovated. You said you’re a man and that between work and the playground opposite your house that it would be fine. One morning though it wasn’t fine, was it? One morning you really needed to go. You grabbed whatever clothes were on the floor, threw them on, launched yourself out the front door without locking it and crossed the road. No need for keys, you were only going to be a few minutes. Approaching the modern automated public restroom from behind, everything looked okay. You only saw the ‘out of order’ sign after you’d pressed the open button urgently a few times. What now?
You look around the park and the dew on the play equipment sparkles in the early morning sun. Shifting weight from left to right, time was running out. What now? If you go home, there’s nothing there to make this situation resolve itself. Then you see it. The council recently installed a dog litter removal point. Above the bin is a roll of small black plastic bags. You roughly grab one and find a bush big enough to provide some camouflage. Bag spread as wide as you can, you pull down your trackie pants and assume the position. Oddly the council hasn’t provided any paper product so you sacrifice a sock to the greater good. As you exit from behind said bush, an older couple walking their dachshund pass.
 ‘Nice morning for it,’ they chorus as you pass one another.

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