Page Text: The Perth Files
The world's most isolated city as viewed through the eyes of someone who has chosen to live elsewhere for most of his adult life... thrills, spills, shark sightings and roster petrol stations galore! The views expressed here are all mine & nothing to do with my employer.
Friday, February 09, 2018
Get me the Sergeant, please!
"St Kilda Police Station. Yes, the Sergeant’s desk."
Larry scrawls the number onto the shiny, grimy phone booth wall with a carpenter’s pencil then dials with determination.
"I want to speak with the sergeant please. No, I need to speak to the sergeant. Look, why won’t you put me through to the sergeant?"
While the ‘annoying prick’ of a Constable plays his daily phone battle with Larry, just a heartbeat, a heartbreak away the guy and gal hipster crew dish up plates of smashed avo on sourdough (Veg) (V) dusted with dukkah served alongside deconstructed chai lattes.
An ageing rock star - who still does it for the cool kids - saunters by with perfect sideburns on his morning trip to the 711. The AGE and perhaps the odd pack of Craven As. If you please.
Latte constructed I watch as Larry slams the phone back in its cradle, pockets his pencil and disappears into the Acland St throng.
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