Mr Mascellani's Musings

All's Well That Ends With Coffee.

I had gone to bed at midnight, and had set my alarm clock for four am. I woke up at three-fifty five. I got out of bed. I switched off the alarm, so as that it wouldn't buzz. Weather-wise, it was freezing. I went to the bathroom and turned on the heating. Somehow, I ended back in bed. I woke up 48 minutes later. 48 minutes later! Yikes! I would have to my shower and coffee at work.

It's a long, boring story, but I try not to get into work late too often. Thank God it was a Sunday, and I could wear scummy clothes instead of the decent 'office attire' that I have to wear when I work on a week day. I got into said clothes and, feeling somewhat scummy myself, made my way to the train station.

I got to the station about five-fifteen. There was load of the previous night's reveller's still about. The whole station seemed to be covered in big, boisterous, drunken, stoned, Islander women (Samoans? Tongans? Maoris? or a mixture?) They were running amok in that morning after the 'girl's night out' sort of way: dressed up in evening dresses, swearing and behaving like sailors. They were just having fun, which was fine. Heaps preferable to some of the sleazy, menacing looking scumbags (male and female) that were hanging out at the station. Not that I'm judgmental or anything.

I sat on a bench, minding my own business, waiting for the train. A young guy came and started a conversation with me by saying "It's too cold" isn't it? I didn't really feel like chatting. I felt like drinking coffee. But, I sensed that he wasn't a local guy and was perhaps was a bit overwhelmed and frightened by some of the people and activities that were going on around us. So I chatted with him. Well, I didn't so much chat with him, rather, I displayed the signs of listening while he talked.

The train came. It was late. I got to work on time. I had a shower and a shave and coffee. I felt human again.Work was slow.

A work mate and I took an extended lunchbreak and went to check out the 'Coffee Festival'that was happening at The Rocks, Sydney. We had heard that there was going to be some beautiful, Brazilian dancers shaking their stuff at the festival. But unfortunately, it wasn't true. Still, it was good to drink various coffees from around the world.

Big, burly, boisterous, Brazilian, beautiful, Today's journal entry was brought to you by the letter 'B'