Teretz Syndrome

Sunday, May 18, 2003. 6:28PM

I've been updating on Wednesday a lot these days, but it seems I have an hour or so with nothing to do, and TV is being totally unwatchable (fucking Big Brother... my God that show pisses me off), so why not? Mess you people up a bit, make you reset your daily schedule? All right.

Where did I leave off? Oh yes, Thursday. I watched A Clockwork Orange in the morning, and then sort of mooched around for a while. Did a bullshit assignment. Took about 15 minutes. After tea I headed over to the J Man's to see his minimalist room, and in theory watch The Matrix, and then go to the first screening of The Matrix Reloaded.In the end, however, we went to the city to meet some guy who wanted to go to a bar before going to the movie. We met the guy, and he was one of those guys who wears denim jackets and jeans. Now, I admit, I wear suits all the time, and have slightly strange fashion sense, but please, people, stop this. It is not a good look. Some, very few, very hot women can pull off all denim. Some women can pull off just the jacket, but men, please. You want to wear jeans, well, all right; I disagree with you, but I can handle it. Anyway you choose to live your life is okay with me. Unless of course, you choose to wear all denim. Particularly (and this usually seems to be the case) if you wear all denim all the time. You look like a fool! I am laughing at you! The world is laughing at you!

Anyway, yes, at the bar I ran into Will, who showed me his invention, hot chocolate with Baileys. Quite, quite tasty. This woman behind me asked to borrow my lighter, which I gave to her, and she used it to light this big ass fuck off cigar. I am always impressed by cigars (I am going to smoke them I think, possibly quite soon). This woman didn't seem very familiar with a Zippo (she spent a few moments fumbling and figuring it out). I see now that one should always light it, and profit the lit Zippo to the woman.

Then we saw The Matrix Reloaded (well, more to the point, then we stood in a queue for a few hours). I've reviewed it somewhere if you're really interested. Got home in a taxi about 3:00AM.

The next day was Friday. I usually get up early on Fridays to win the competitions, but on this particular Friday I couldn't be bothered. Bill's mobile was left unlocked, and it called me from his pocket at some ungodly hour. I woke up and swore at his loose change, before going back to bed. When I did get up I messed around for a while, watched The Mexican and did another bullshit assignment. There was some more time to kill, and I killed it with gusto, before about six when I went out to dinner with my best girl. I was wearing a black suit, black tie, black trenchcoat, and I spent a few moments shopping. First I went to Priceline, where I found an umbrella. Not a particularly high quality umbrella, but it is a good long one that will double as a cane fairly well (oh for a cane). I then walked across the road to Myer, looking for a white scarf to complete my last century playboy image. Sure enough, I found one, a steal about $50. "Fuck you Myer", I said, and was heading back toward the town square (where I was to meet her) when there in the window of "Hot Potatoes: The Not Just $2 Shop" were a pile of white scarfs. $2.50. "Well," thought I, "Those are bound to be shit scarfs, but it's only two fifty, I can just throw it away after tonight."

Anyway, we met, we ate, we walked around for a while, we contemplated sneaking into a totally cool sounding Nokia Corporation Black Tie Dinner (but decided that she wasn't dressed for it. I was, and felt vindicated, having finally found a purpose to my pointless suit wearing), we drank a little (I said to the bar keep "I want a drink that is tasty, yet still totally manly." He brought back this massive cocktail with enough alcohol to kill a small horse, which was, all things considered, tasty, yet totally manly), and I walked her home. Having big her fair farewell, I set off on my own way home.

It wasn't until I reached Royal Park, however, that the fun truly began. You see, there I am, cutting across the oval. We've been out drinking pretty late, and I had dallied quite a while out side her door, and got lost a little bit in the winding streets of Carlton, so I guess it's probably coming up on five AM. There, right in the center of the oval is a massive hot air balloon. I had no idea these things were so huge. Anyway, it's in my path, so I walk over to investigate, and it's only when I'm about ten feet away that I realise the place is deserted. I scan the perimeter of the park. Way off in the distance I can see a four wheel drive and a trailer, but there aren't even any people over there. "Well," I think "can't hurt to have a bit of a looksy." In I climb, and push a few sandbags off the side. The balloon starts to rise. "Fuck," I think "I'm stealing a hot air balloon. Then slower "Hey! I'm stealing a hot air balloon!" I look to the controls, and, wanting to make a quick getaway, I crank on the gas. Up, up, up we go, and after a little while (a nearby dial reads 500ft) the wind takes us, and off we go, over the housing commission, and toward my house. I turn off the gas, and try and figure out how to steer, and go down. I press some buttons. Nothing happens. How the fuck do I land this bitch? I push everything, and pull everything, and untie what I think I can untie, but no matter what I do, all I seem to be able to achieve is to make the gas go on and the balloon go higher. By this stage, the wind has changed a bit, and the sun is coming up. I'm cruising over Williamstown, when a thought dawns on me. What if I land in the fucking sea? Oh fuck, this could be trouble. I'm fairly sure that given time, the air will cool, and the balloon will descend of its own devices, but I have no control over the bitch. What if it lands in the sea? Or even on power lines? Well, out we sail, out into Port Phillip bay, and I am shitting myself something chronic. The dial reads 450ft, which I suppose confirms my theory about going down over time, but it's still way too high to jump. There is a radio which I turned off during my control pressing frenzy, and I consider using it now to call for help. About lunch time, still well out over the sea, I am just about to use it when I notice that the city is visible again. That's new. We must be moving inland! Low and behold, we are, and over the next few hours we come pretty slowly in. About five o'clock, at about 250ft (and dropping all the more rapidly now that the air is cooling down) I cross the coast (somewhere out near Brighton by my guess, and cruise in over the leafy eastern suburbs. About six I start to have major power line concerns, because not only is it dark, and I'm falling pretty fast, but I'm getting down to about twenty feet, and the wind is picking up. I give it some more gas to jump one last set of power lines, and let her run into the side of a hospital. Gracefully, my gondola hits the building, and with a slight sigh, the balloon sinks down into the carpark. I get out and sprint down to a tram I can see in the distance and make good my escape.

* * * * *

It wasn't until I reached Royal Park, however, that the fun truly began. It's maybe three AM. I've been drinking pretty steady manly cocktails for a few hours now, and, let's face it, I'm having trouble walking, let alone navigating. I cut across the oval, and after a while, I hit a big mother fucking brick wall with a heap of crap next to it. Now, I've walked through this park a million times, and I've never seen this wall before, but, what the fuck, thinks I, no wall is going to stand between me and my bed, so I climb up the pile of crap and over the wall. I push my way though the piles of equipment and so on before I smell that smell. That unique smell of animals and mixed fruit which I haven't smelt for years, and yet I still know. I realise where I am. I'm in the mother fucking zoo. Holy shit, I think, and head back to the wall. I get there and look around, but oh fuck, on this side, there's no pile of crap. How the hell am I going to get over a god damn high brick wall with no pile of crap to climb? Oh well, I think, maybe I'll get out one of the gates or something. I head off the way I came, and go though a gate to get out of my little enclosure. I'm following some path, when there, right in front of me is a fucking monkey. I look at him. He looks at me. We look at each other. "Wow," I think. "God damn lucky I didn't land in a lion cage." The monkey rears up, parts his lips bearing the biggest fucking shiniest teeth in the world, hisses and beats his chest. Two of his monkey buddies rock up and do the same. Now, I'm no coward, but I know when a couple of monkeys are planning to eat me, so I get the hell out of there. I run back to the gate I came though, but the mother fucker has a monkey proof lock on this side, and doesn't fucking open. I jump up to climb over the fence, and get the mother fucking shock of my life. It's fucking electrified. I fly back five feet and lie there, my heart palpitating like nothing else, the weirdest feeling all through me. "Trinity, get up. Get up Trinity." Eventually my arms answer, and up I come. I run around the compound checking out the fence. Eventually, I come to a tree, which I climb, throw my coat over the electric wire, and pretty well clear it. I fall a fucking long way, and land pretty badly (I'm still drunk remember), but I'm more or less okay. I retrieve my coat, climb the smaller fence that's meant to keep the people away from the monkeys, and go for a walk. I find a few exits, but they're all locked up tight, so I keep walking. I must of pretty much toured the whole damn place when it gets light, and people start arriving. I don't know who the fuck comes to the zoo and seven o'clock in the morning (or even why the fuck it's open), but either way, it don't bother me, because I head straight out the main gate, ignore the protests of the chick in the ticket booth, get straight on the tram, and make good my escape.

* * * * *

It wasn't until I reached Royal Park, however, that the fun truly began. Well, not really. I made it through Royal park itself without mishap, but just out of Royal park I'm crossing the bridge over Moonee Ponds creek, and I look down, and there's a body. Well, it's about two AM, and although I know I could just walk on by, I think what the hell, I may as well at least poke it with a stick. It seems in pretty good condition, and it still has its wallet, which I have a look through. Dudes name is Chirstopher Moranis, and he lives in Glenroy. He has a bit of cash ($57.70), and I decided that in return for his dough, I'm going to call the cops. I dial 000, and the operator asks me what the nature of my emergency is. "Well," I say, "It's not really an emergency." "Do you want ambulance, police or fire brigade?" "Well, I suppose ambulance... maybe police. An undertaker? I've found a body, you see." "Is it dismembered at all?" Fuck me, what the hell kind of question is that. She said it so calm. "No. Not really." "Yes or no?" "Well, not visibly." "Okay. Is it hard to reach?" "Well, not, not for me. It's in a bit of a river." "Is it submerged?" "No, it's more in a creek. Very shallow water." "Is it a suspicious death?" "I don't know. I don't think so." "Does the body appear to have died violently. Is it mutilated?" "No, I don't think so. Not badly, anyway." "All right, Hang around and I'll dispatch someone right away." "Don't you want to know where I am?" "Oh, I know where you are." I climb back onto the ramp, and sit around for twenty minutes or so, when up pulls this car, and out get two fucking agents (from The Matrix) they ask me a bunch of questions, including "have you taken anything from the body?" (I lie) and get me to fill in a statement. After a while, an ambulance and some more cops come, and they take Chris away, and then eventually the agents run me home. Wow. What a night. The next morning I look at the money, and it's all covered in blood. I throw it away rather than try and spend it.

* * * * *

Anyway, I spend all Sunday doing an assignment, which brings me to now.


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