I lied at the meat shop today and it felt real good. My favorite place for sausages and dead flesh is Donato’s in Carlton, a fancy, pancy meat shop that plays opera as a soundtrack for slicing and chopping. I’m a regular – if you count maybe 20 visits over the last 20 years as such. They know me there, I’m the lady with funny hands who needs assistance with the door, and so a bit of chit chat is always in order, today, from one of the lovely familiar-faced butchers (as he passed me my minimally plastic-wrapped brats)…
“You got the day off?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“Lovely day for it, you picked a good one for it.”
“Yes,” I smiled, bundling my meat awkwardly into my impractical bag.
“We got the holidays coming up, got anything planned?”
“Yes,” I lied, “Going down the coast…Anglesea,” I embellished, “What about you?” I asked as he handed over change.
“Haven’t been back to Italy since 1989;” he said, “My wife doesn’t even know where it is,” he joked.
As I caught my tram home I felt well pleased. For lying to the nice Donato man. For suddenly realising there’s no need to reveal the truth. To answer his friendly question with an all too worrying phrase…
“I don’t work,” I could have said. “Don’t want to either,” I might have added. But then things would just get awkward. Because it’s just not on to say such things. To admit to being a person left out of the budget, as I sit here now listening to Frydenburg on TV, announcing plans for another fast-rail ‘vision,’ and a great big lump of yummy yummy surplus for HARDWORKING AUSTRALIANS, and HARDWORKING AUSTRALIANS, oh yeah…and those HARDWORKING AUSTRALIANS as well. In the Gillard years it was all WORKING FAMILIES and WORKING FAMILIES and WORKING FAMILIES, so that’s double not me, being family-free (neither husband nor sprogs) and a bludger to boot.
My fibbing today I could blame on hemp oil dosing, the lovely buzz I’ve recently discovered that’s not supposed to get you high, but then hey Stanley Brothers of Charlotte’s Web fame, why did my ham sandwich seem so damned interesting? The butter a hyper-nutty yellow and the sun on my face an utter delight…it’s not supposed to give you a buzz, just relax your max and damp out inflammation…hmm. I confess I digress yes yes…
Anyhoo…I don’t know exactly why I lied in the sausage shop today, but by golly I’ll do it again! I’ll be one of you, oh working Australian crew! But maybe this time I’ll go somewhere more interesting, the south of France maybe, not just plain ‘ole Anglesea…😊