Thursday night
It felt like a restless drive back. Jeff knew the journey well: escape the city, navigate the bridge, dodgem cars to Werribee, then relax and cruise control into Geelong. He needed milk, an annoying stop before home. A consolation: training went well and the boys were showing progress.
Jeff’s witching hour had gone; it was a little past eight. The night was still and cold; he’d been listening to footy—the Bulldogs and North. Decisions. Baton down the hatches, or stretch the legs—we know what that meant—a bevvy or two watching the second half. Or he could stay home, eat, footy, and bank an AFD. Jeff needed company—a stroll it is.
Arriving he was met with trivia patrons departing the scene—Robbie ran Thursday trivia. Most players scran down, boffin out, then fuck off—lamenting their inability to know that Germany is Europe's largest country. Annoying and not cashable. The hotel staff seemed happy to see the back of them, already rearranging the furniture, restoring the layout to normal hotel mode.
More questions. Which TV? Where to park? Solo, or find a conversation? Jeff started solo, positioning himself between two adequately sized screens. Animated discourse between two locals, enough to be heard, was near by—best to dodge for now. Focus on the order.
“What ‘re ya afta?” The boss lady asked.
Now, to be clear, Jeff is a contradiction in terms. He yearns and thrives in non-formality and the comforts of anti-establishment behaviour—but then can be so prim and proper in actions and words. He slipped to the latter.
“Actually, I’m not after anything. I would like to order a drink, though.”
“So wat ya afta?”
“Is the Carlton Draught unpasteurised—from the tank?” He knew that, but…
That was it. The trivia crowd had fluffed, and Jeff came in with the closer—a straight right that landed flush on the chin. A cheap shot!
The boss lady exited left, asking a colleague to look after Jeff.
“Can you sort this guy—he’s off his friggin’ rocker.”
Another lady. Just not the boss kind.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Yeh, give us a schooie of fucking draft, will ya.”
That’s Jeff.
Nick
‘Jeff’