So I was crossing the street early this morning and nearly got struck by an Aussie on a bicycle. I had 10 minutes until my next bus, so decided to check the newsagent on the other side of South Bridge for the latest Economist. I had just finished by 8th night shift in a row, so was functioning at limited capacity when I suddenly heard a crisp, “Watch yerself.” I stopped and stood there stupidly in the street while the Aussie zipped past. I mumbled “sorry” to the chap as he passed, but he was dressed all in black and it was still quite dark out. He did have one of those flashing lights on the front of his handlebars, but that could have been a distant car, a flashing UFO, a dancing will o’ wisp, Tinkerbell, or any of the other various hallucinations I am prone to after eight days of sleep deprivation. However, as this Aussie passed he continued with, “For fuck’s sake.” Well now, that was totally uncalled for and demanded a witty repartee. So the rusty, sleepy wheels of my brain grinded out an interesting amalgamation of random words and I hurled back the gem of an insult which appeared before my lips: “Kiss off… fuckhead.”
Hmm…. Interesting. A combination that has likely never been uttered by my lips and could only have been constructed in the workshop bowels of the sleepy subconscious. I decided it was a most glorious comeback, nevertheless. It reminded me of George Costanza’s jerk store. The Aussie must have been dumbstruck, because he kept on riding in silence.