Sunday

It was such a beautiful day on Sunday. Nice and sunny and not too cold. I decided to hang out in front of the house and have a cup of coffee and soak up some sun.

I live in a filthy rich neighbourhood. My neighbour two doors down plays pro-football (Aussie Rules Football). He's got a mansion with two big cars. Not a big deal really, because most of my neighbours have two cars, and usually one's a Jaguar or a Maserati or at least a Merc. And in the middle of this filthy richness, there's me and my housemates. We're the filth.

In our garage, there's a bicycle, a broken TV, two moth-eaten mattresses, and miscellaneous broken furniture - the trash legacy of a long line of former housemates never to return again. Between the four of us bums, we manage to fork out the rent. As long as we don't make the air smell bad with our averageness, the rich don't care too much. We even manage to get a smile or two from them, when we pass by.

So there I was, sipping my coffee and trying not to reek. I'm waiting for the new housemate to arrive and move his stuff in. Here's the story. One of my housemates is leaving next week. We got along like a house on fire. He'll be sorely missed. But this is what I get for living in a share-house. We found a new housemate last week to take his place. Seemed like a nice chap. Didn't give out any serial-killer vibes. Has a pet rabbit. Has a steady job. He'll be able to pay the rent on time. That'll do.

Andy, the new housemate, arrives. He's got quite a bit of stuff and he's brought a friend along to help him move it in. I finish my coffee and lend a hand. As we're moving stuff in, a blue BMW cruises in and comes to a halt across the road. This flaming gay dude gets out, looking severely like a Duran Duran reject. He's got the obligatory '80s hairstyle (apparently, it's back in fashion), tight blue jeans, crumpled white shirt, blue tie, and canvas shoes ( the kind I used to wear for PT class in the 3rd grade. This also, apparently, is back in fashion). The guy also looks like he's been partying all night and hasn't realised that Saturday turned into Sunday 12 hours ago. He had that look which said "What the fuck is up with all this daylight?!".

We continue to move Andy's stuff in. We're in the middle of manoeuvring this very large mattress inside the door when the Simon Le Bon wannabe calls out "Excuse Meeeeeeeeeeee".

We stop and look at him. I thought maybe he was being nice and wanted to help.

"Do you guys want some pills?", he says.

"??????", we think.

Before we could respond, the guy did some kind of pirouette into his car and drives off.

"Did he just say what I think he said?", I ask Andy.

"Yeah. He was offering us pills.", Andy confirmed.

"Did you know you have a drug dealer in the neighbourhood?", asks Andy's friend.

"Well, I didn't. But I do now.", I said. "Though I wouldn't do business with someone who dresses like that anyway. Still, he must be doing well for himself. He's got a Beemer."

You get all kinds in this filthy rich neighbourhood.

After shifting in the mattress and other items, I was introduced to the rabbit. Fat little bugger, with mildly droopy ears. Black and white. Sadly, I've forgotten his name.

The rabbit will live in a cage in the backyard. Now, not to be left out of the time-honoured Australian tradition of the barbeque, one of my housemates invested in a tiny little barbeque. It's really really tiny. You'd be lucky to fit more than 7 sausages in it. She's vegetarian. I think she used it once, or maybe twice, to grill some tomatoes and eggplants.

In a cruel twist of irony, the rabbit-cage is next to this barbeque in the backyard.

The backyard is also where I smoke my weed. For the longest time, I haven't had any. But last week, I managed to get shitloads of the stuff. And I didn't have to get it from the '80s popstar either.

I can just picture myself, sitting in the backyard, on any given Sunday afternoon, in a THC-induced state of bliss, munchies slowly developing, and staring at the rabbit. Then at the barbeque.

Then at the rabbit again...

...and at the barbeque...

...back to the rabbit...

...thinking, "I wonder what grilled rabbit tastes like?"...

Hmmmm...