freak magnet

why is it that i always attract the freaks?

whether it be a bus stop, a train or a bar, if there's any freaks in the immediate vicinity, you can start placing bets that they'll glue themselves on me sooner or later.

there i was, sitting on a train heading down the coast, reading my book and minding my own bloody business.

i noticed him from the corner of my eye walking past a few times and then sitting down on the opposite side of the aisle. i was trying my best to look entirely swept away by my book while he was trying to crane his neck back and forth in order to get my attention.

in the end i guess he got frustrated and abandoned the subtle ways of getting in contact and instead bellowed off the top of his lungs: 'oi miss... i was wondering... really nice pouty lips you've got... you mind if i draw your portrait?'

judging by the volume, he had already downed quite a few drinks, and the jolly clinking from the bag by his feet hinted that he had a few more to go.

the poor bugger turned out to be an art school drop out - 'yeh i've been at tafe for three years and that was great... but fuck uni. all that bloody theory. fuck that. who needs theory anyway? ...i dropped out.' - and was comparing his lack of interest for art school to that of dali's. 'they couldn't teach him anything either...'

while quite attractive and entertaining, he was certainly not the brightest crayon in the box. kept me amused for the majority of my trip tho, so it was all good. silly rabbit.