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The Southland Diaries (day 05) [explicit!]
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Diaries The fifth day of my ‘real estate promotion guy’ job at the Southland complex. It’s been copied verbatim and has not been altered in any way, hence the grammatical mistakes and poor expression. Each number corresponds to a page in the A4 note book I used to write all this rubbish in.
Wed 30/06/2004
1.
10:41am Here we go again… triple coffee for ‘breakfast’, complete with a butterscotch latté with an extra espresso shot and a ham, cheese and tomato croissant from ‘Coffee HQ’. Two dexters down the hatch, and I’m off on another week of excruciatingly boring promotion work for golf resort investment properties.
Ahh, that’s better – the only missing component of music blaring on the headphones now fulfilled – shoes kicked off under the desk. I have to say though, this desk I’m on this week is annoyingly tall. Doesn’t exactly make a great writing desk. Still, I found a display folder underneath it, with lots of pretty drawings and pictures, and also another booklet with maps and such, so this should at least spare me of having to explain location and layouts etc.
How they could have possibly thought this was in a better position I will never know. I walked straight past it myself. There’s even less traffic at this spot, tucked away at the foot of the escalators, on the ground floor. This floor is the smallest and is the least popular since it doesn’t connect to other areas of this huge, complex shopping centre. Maybe I can set a new record? Any takers? I’ll place my bet on the first ‘customer’ arriving at around 1:30pm, and the total number of ‘customers’ for the day at two. What are my odds Mr. Bookmaker? Even? Shit, not worth betting then, is it? :op
“You don’t know where the RACV shop is, do you mate?”
“No idea, sorry.”
Yep, it’s gonna be another long, long day…
2.
10:58am Well it’s actually going to be an hour less today, since I had to pick up my passport this morning in the city. It feels comforting to be in possession of a passport when you live on a large and isolated island like Australia. Well… it’s been classified as a continent, but I think most Australians will always think of their country as an island, seeing they can’t just jump into their car and drive to another country, like all other inhabitants living in countries not classified as ‘islands’.
Even if the Nigerian project is totally scrapped I now at least have the required documentation to fly off somewhere, if I so choose. Australia has one of the highest levels of suicides amongst young people, especially men. I think the geographic isolation of this country has a lot to do with this, because it adds another dimension of futility to those wishing to escape. Running away to another country may not cure manic depression, but it can provide interesting experiences and contrasts of culture, that may just prolong a suicidal person’s life, or even deter them from entertaining the thought completely. All westerners need to travel to the 3rd world, as a good kick up the arse, to appreciate what they have and the opportunities available to them. Wallowing in self-pity is the easiest state of mind to achieve, no matter of your personal situation or financial status. It is just simpler to be depressed than happy. It is easier to justify, easier to reach, easier to hold on to. I personally escaped these vices of modernity via self-induced madness. It may not be ‘genuine’ happiness that I feel, but it allows me to laugh at everything around me, rather than letting it depress me.
Ten years ago, when a letter or phone call from a bureaucratic corporation bugged me to repay debts or face the threat of legal action, I would worry incessantly and get stomach ulcers from stress. These days I just laugh at them and say, “Hahaha! Well you better send your cronies over cause I aint givin’ you jack shit until I feel like it.” I rarely get consecutive
3.
…demands from the same companies. They can tell a crackpot when they see one, and the petty debts are just not worth pursuing through expensive legal action. I am filed as another ‘bad debt’, written off at next year’s tax return lodgement. Unethical? Amoral? Just doing my bit to create the harmonious chaos of modern western life in a market economy. Somebody has to. There are too many feeble-minded, law-abiding, restrained and passive wusses in this society. I just can’t fathom their embrace of this menial existence as ‘tax-paying consumers’. Nothing but glorified ants, living out their pointless lives as servants of the system.
11:32am Well, well… I was way off with my punt. Just as well I don’t gamble much. New CD…
A pretty woman sits on a bench, amidst a buzzing circle of unruly children, pondering, perhaps waiting for a friend, or boyfriend. Scratching her nose, playing with her necklace, sending me body language signals… there is no wedding or engagement ring on her finger. She has that dignified look of a quiet and shy individual, the pretty wallflower waiting to be plucked. She suddenly rose, walked off… alone.
I need to urinate.
Three women in “Pretzel World” are busy slaving away in their tiny ‘kitchen’, to my left. A sushi chef polishes the window display at ‘Fujiya Sushi’ to my right. A cleaner lethargically sweeps past in front of me, talking to a young man, stopping and leaning on the broom handle every now and then, making random paths, collecting occasional pieces of rubbish as she moves. She gives the young man a kiss and a hug goodbye. Her son? A crowd is building at the ‘New Zealand Natural’ juice and frozen yoghurt stall behind her. It’s almost noon, the lunch time crowd soon to engulf my surroundings.
4.
12:05pm Different floor, different toilet, different kind of hand-dryer (push-button), but the smiling faces of ‘Peter’ and ‘Karen’ remain the same. Even a different pen today. Purchased a uni-ball “deluxe” model, from the ‘Nextra’ newsagency this morning. It’s nestled between ‘Bart’s the Chemist’ and ‘Prouds – The Jewellers’, across the complex walkway, in front of me to the left.
Why all this pointless detail? Just practise I guess. I’ll have to become much better at it if I hope to become a good journalist one day.
I picked up a stack of ‘Centre Directory’ brochures from the info desk on my way back from the toilet. I’ve opened two of them up, displaying a map layout to all the levels, at the corner of my desk, so now when people come to me with their stupid enquiries I just have to point at the brochures and say “look it up!”
An Asian man just smacked his little boy on the bench, much to the disapproval of a mother on the other side of the bench. She turned to the man and gave him the “no-no” finger gesture. I can’t hear what his response to her was, as I’m listening to “A Perfect Circle” on full volume. The man has three other little children with him. Delicate situations these clashes of culture can be… I would have left it alone personally, unless the man used excessive force. In which case I’d report him. It was only one smack. Who am I to judge his child rearing abilities? Not that I would ever hit M** for any reason… I know the negative effect that violent discipline can have on a child’s cognitive development. Defensive traits developed at a very early age can have life-long repercussions. I am going to make sure I do everything in my capacity not to interfere with his natural personality development. He’ll be waiting for me when I come home. Yay! :o)
5.
12:45pm SMS sent -->
12:57pm I need to go and buy myself a book. Writing way too much and it’s going to take me forever to type up. Might as well see if any of these commercial chain stores have any of the books I have to read for next term, and get a head start. I’ve changed my enrolment to part-time, doing only one unit next semester, so I might as well pull my finger out and get decent results.
13:06pm Well how about that! Third customer, just shot down my second ‘bet’. Must go celebrate with a book purchase! ;o)
SMS received -->
14:25pm SMS sent -->
New book (Kazuo Ishiguro – The Remains of the Day), new CD (Velvet Revolver – Contraband), freshly made tortellini carbonara in my belly, new socks on my feet, new pen in my hand and new passport in my bag. Was a beautiful and sunny morning… life is good, it always was, just didn’t see it.
6.
16:43pm Spent the last couple of hours reading, perving, sending text messages and drinking coffee. Yes, more coffee… I’m a fucking caffeine addict! Seven shots in total today, on to of two dexamphetamines. Won’t sleep well tonight, that’s for sure. Oh well, it’s not like I would have anyway. M** is sleeping in my bed, so I’ll be continuously awoken by his unintentional kidney kicks and eye gauges.
17:20 Time to pack up? Yes I think so… goodbye!
"...Ten years ago, when a letter or phone call from a bureaucratic corporation bugged me to repay debts or face the threat of legal action, I would worry incessantly and get stomach ulcers from stress. These days I just laugh at them and say, “Hahaha! Well you better send your cronies over cause I aint givin’ you jack shit until I feel like it.” I rarely get consecutive..." You see I call these great financial planners for others with their attractive offers -- POACHERS! I cannot stand such head-hunters with their traps...have one poem under "Angostura"