Local logic

On a dead start to Saturday evening, I sat on a surburban rank and played pot luck with nodesto radio. My first and only job was a $12 local in over an hour. The autumn cold heralded a quiet night.

The fare was waiting and approached in my headlights with all the swagger of a weightlifter. A sizable young adult male of Mediterranean appearance, as the politically-correct term goes. He got in the front and nominated the next suburb. I quickly weighed up whether to challenge him over what he was concealing, in one hand under the jacket he carried. It was roughly the same size as a discman. I decided it was probably nothing -intuitive risk analysis- and accepted the fare.

‘So how do I get out of here ?’ I asked. ‘Go right bro, go right,’ he barked. He wasn’t happy. ‘Who’s winning ?’ he demanded, referring to the radio coverage of a league match. ‘Umm, South Sydney, 6-4', I guessed. Silence. His tenseness next to me was palpable.

I left him alone until the next red light. ‘So, you going out or going home ?’ I casually inquired. ‘Nah, goin’ to the girlfriends, bro’, he responded. ‘Aw yeah, do the right thing eh, night on the couch with a video, ’, I offer. ‘Yeah, dat's it bro, dat's it’, he says, sparking up, ‘too cold for the girl ’.

On arrival, I gave him the change with, ‘So who do you like for the comp ?’ He nominates his team, West/Tigers, but concedes they are no hope. I suggest competition leaders, the Bulldogs have it sown up. This sends him right off, “Yeah, dat’s fuckin’ right bro’ ! They’re goin’ to show all dem fuckers who said they done those rapes !’

He’s off on a pet subject, gesticulating wildly - so much so I wonder if he’s trying to hit me with his flailing arms, ‘I’ll tell ya, no fucking way are those boys guilty - all these c.... are still saying it - ya know what I’m saying bro !? The courts says they innocent bro, they’re innocent !' He glares at me defiantly, challenging me.

Before I can lamely agree with him, anything to placate his hair-trigger aggression, he flings open the door. ‘ If anyone is guilty, it’s that fuckin’ Bush - ya know what I’m saying bro ?’ he fires back at me. Then he’s gone. Phew. But, the Bulldogs - Bush..? How many people make that connection, I wonder.