It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday

I was taking out the rubbish. It’s Sunday. A glorious Sunday in autumn. Across the road the cricketers were rejoicing in another wicket. The eternal sound of summer.  As I put the last bag in the rubbish bin I noticed I was being stared at. I made a perfunctory wave, it’s nice to be polite. The passerby shouted, ‘Don’t wave at me! You know i’m in pain’! Shot at point blank range by an accusing finger I replied; “I’m sorry, I was only trying to be polite” said in a tone of meekness personified.

“Do you know how much pain i’m in? I have so much anger”, in a voice demanding immediate reaction. “I’m sorry to hear that’! I sighed. The voice continued;‘And if i could just stick a pencil into my eyes, it still wouldn’t stop the anger and the pain’.

‘Well I’m very sorry to hear that’, and politely, (without a hint of condescension) walked back towards the house.

“Oh you”e so superior!! How Superior you must feel! Look at you’! pointing to the two bedroom weatherboard cottage. ‘You own all this’?!! I politely continued to ignore her, as I methodically checked to see if the battery leads were still intact. She then walked towards me, there was going to be a confrontation. “You’re so superior! All of this is yours! And Im HOMELESS!’

Always pretty quiet at the station also.

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like in all your superiority”. !! I corrected her, “I‘m sorry you feel so aggrieved but the sad truth is that i’m one invoice away from being homeless myself. I rent my house, and I have no money, no credit card and no security whatsoever’. I had a wry thought, “though I am designated by our contemporary economic realists as a winner.

‘You wouldn’t know how angry I am even if you tried’. ‘Well’ I reiterated tiredly, ‘I’m sorry for that, In spite of everything i’m invariably happy. I spose anger just makes you angrier and it’s belittling’.,Knowing I was getting nowhere, I suggested, ‘well you’d better move on, this can’t be good for your anger. No matter what you do I can’t get angry. And besides it’s Sunday afternoon and a perfect autumn day’.

The only other event is when the creek floods the footy oval.

As I busied myself she turned and walked out of the garage, swearing and carrying on. I waited till she had gone up the street and went inside. ‘What was that all about’? my son queried.  Oh just a looney. I made the mistake of waving acknowledgement as I put the rubbish out. Was she dangerous? Nup, only to herself’. As we chatted we were aware of a thump and then a ker-phump and then a really audible bash. ‘Bugger’ I cried… and raced out the front door. The looney was pulling up the decorative rocks around the garden and throwing them at the house. ‘Please stop, this is silly’.She looked at me with ice filled eyes ‘Don’t you see i’m throwing these rocks to smash your windows then you might know how angry i am’. ‘No’ I corrected, ‘It only shows how silly you are. Please, this is not good, You’ll have to bugger off now. And besides it’s not my house’. ‘Oh you’re so superior’, I was reminded of the Monty Python Anarcho syndicalist sketch. I’d been slotted as the oppressor, Off she went. Turning to say, ‘I’ll be back tonight to smash yer fuckin winders in’!! That night, after calling the cops and chatting to the neighbours who all heard it there was more thumping. The cars in the carpark were being smashed.

The policemen who knocked on my door at 7.15 am was very polite. ‘Did you hear anything’? ‘Oh about 2.30, Couldn’t sleep as the looney had threatened to smash all my windows tonight’. ‘Oh, she’s the third we’ve had this week’. ‘Why so? Oh it’s since Doyle closed homelessness down in the city. It’s working its way up the line’.

‘Oh well. I hope she’s corralled before someone does her harm. If you see anything. Yeah, I’m afraid I’m in Melbourne this week. I’ve asked the neighbours to check the windows’.

And then the reality. I do work in Melbourne, only place I can guarantee any sort of income. I rent in the country because I can’t afford city rents. The looney has also fled to the provincials. Only place she can guarantee a safe haven and shelter. And of the community? Spose we’re all losers now.

And that’s the point of it all. There is no community. And the winner ? At least Melbourne’s streets are not unsightly with human refuse. And for most of us we’re not far off from being refuse ourselves.

We’re a truly Effluent Society.