To set the scene, I am sitting in my local bar, with my laptop infront of me and a glass of the very good house white beside me. I come here quite frequently, to get away from my flatmate, drink the hours away, talk shit, and occasionally use the free wireless. I first came down here on my own about a year ago, when I realised I was becoming a cat lady and i don't actually have any cats. Too much time alone can turn you into a freak, so I've heard, so I wandered down the street to this tiny little bar, ordered a glass of red and started writing to my Aunty Kerry. The letter was never finished. Instead, I made friends and became a regular.
So I'm down here, checking out my facebook page and looking for apartments to rent. I have become obsessed with finding a new, one bedroom place all of my own. I can, literally no longer take sharing, and if I don't find something soon, someone's going to be killed, in his sleep, with a spoon. Last night i was down here at the bar (no, I'm not an alcoholic) and was telling my real estate woes to another regular Kon. It just so happens that this fine man, is in fact, a real estate agent. He says to me, full of the confidence that people who sell houses for a living have, "We'll find you a place". What a nice, supportive thing to say I thought...then continued drinking. I walk in today, and low and behold, he has already found something. And even though its not in my precious Elwood, but the next suburb over, its apparently beautiful, just in my price range, and I'll be the FIRST person to look at it.
This is just one of the perks of having a local, where the people are nice and think you're o.k too. Another perk is being invited to a movie premiere. Yep you read it right, a premiere. Oh so exciting, and right up my alley. John, another regular, was invited by yet another regular, and he in turn invited me, after realising that the date he currently had was not a good idea. Unfortunately, try as I might to get out of work on the big day, I have had to pass up a great party so i can sell suits to race go'ers who will no doubt ruin said suit at the Cox Plate on Saturday. Do I sound excited?
Nevermind, at least I'll be earning some money, which I need in order to get my car fixed tomorrow. That's another story....
Time for another drink!