Busker seranades a nightclub casualty at 3am on a Sunday morning in Northbridge. A worst by Golden Boy. Was it Brown Eyed Girl being played GB? Nice to think it could have been For The Love of Ivy. His face was already blurry, so I had to pixelate his brogues instead. Like the ciggie.
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VIBRANT NORTHBRIDGE!
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That looks like blood on the footpath – could be another one punch casualty. Instead of giving fist aid and calling an ambo, the busker sings him a fucking lullaby, and probably helped himself to his change too, the looser.
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He’s fine. He has his ciggie.
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first aid
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Fist aid was better.
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That’s not blood, it’s spew
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Quo !
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Or wake up little Suzie?
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That was awful. To think I used to find that song amusing. That was in the days before we knew the word ‘misogynist’, so we just used ‘lad’ instead.
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Magnificent.
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A taxi in Northbridge at night? Sure this isnt photo shopped?
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You’ll notice that it’s driving away at speed.
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Like a vehicular version of a Bunnings staff member. “Don’t make eye contact and pretend you’re needed somewhere else”.
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what’s in the ball of newspaper? I’m hoping it’s a Plaka kebab
we can’t see his right hand, he’s got a glass of beer (plastic of course)
with a beer, a kebab and a durrie he’s set for the night.
Music, moonlight, everything but the girl.
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Is Plaka still there?
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I believe Plaka had closed, or moved, the last time I attempted a daring mid-afternoon raid into Northbridge.
Unless it only comes out at night.
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Underneath Connections, wasn’t it ?
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It certainly was, ronggly, although Google Maps seems confused. It’s still listed at 87 James Street, but the map’s showing it in a lane at the back, while Streetview’s showing it under Connies, I think. Somebody down there can sort it out.
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I looked for Plaka recently but it isn’t there. Chicken kebab with garlic sauce = the business. Actual grown up restaurant I had dinner at = shithouse
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damn, showing my age
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Is Northbridge like the 60s? If you can remember what happened (and where you bought your kebabs), you weren’t really there…?
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no, I think Northbridge is more like being abused as a child
you try to block the memories
I have had some meals there that I am really trying hard to forget
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I recall the meals, just not a lot after. God knows what they put in the food.
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I always loved the old Romany, and there used to be a fantastic Lebanese place behind this stupid truck on William St, so I can’t see if it’s still there. Although I practically lived there I can’t recall the name. Everyone just called it The Lebo. Uncle Vince’s, which was where some place called Capriccio Italiano now apparently is, (between what was Hannibal’s and the new Romany), was well known for serving the best chilli mussels anywhere, ever. And although you might have needed to head a block or two north, the Vietnamese cafes were spectacular.
Plaka, of course, would just suddenly appear out of the haze occasionally, and was fine when you were beyond caring.
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Plaka where I used to rule th Banzai Run pinball. The Lebanese on William is long gone. Used to have rugs on the walls. There was a food court I think next door in about 1981 or 2.
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Lebanese in question was called Sylvana’s, and awesome to boot. Threw up two litres of port on the floor on one occasion, circa 1990; Harry (Elvis quiff and Cadillac, often seen parked outside) was most gracious. He blamed the Jews for his restaurant’s eventual closure.
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I remember the quiff. I seem to remember that along with the camel and desert wall rugs there was an elvis one.
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Sylvana’s, and awesome, it was. Thanks, NF#1. It was owned by a great kiwi named Gary when I used to frequent it in the 80s, but its magic belonged to the ancient mama who used to shuffle in around midday. I still have a cassette I bought there of the trad Lebanese music they used to constantly play. Their wonderful spinach fatayers brought me back from the dead on innumerable occasions. Vale, Sylvana’s.
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They must be very distinctive brogues!
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You will run this magnificent image, but not my woman with pram and Maccas?
For shame.
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That reminds me – I have to get Mrs Bento to send in her flaps.
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I also saw a bumper sticker “I did a deal with Dazza” the other day.
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Could be open to interpretation that sticker…
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I believe the busker was singing something by James Blunt. Unfortunately this man wasn’t the only one we saw unconscious in the street, but he was the only one being serenaded.
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That would knock anyone down faster than a flying fist or a broken glass.
A blunt instrument indeed.
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Maybe he ran into one of these guy in Northbridge… has much the same effect as listening to James Blunt.
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Barney’s inspection tour of Northbridge didn’t end all that well, although he still had his pants on which was a win all round. A taxi driver mistaking him for Troy drove on, as in a painting by Bruegel
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OMG 3am and doesent look like Elvis but it looks like hell.
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That is very close to being your first haiku, Legend.
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The first (and only) time I ended up like that punter, I got a lift to the Royal Prince Alfred in an ambliance.
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Agreed, the ambience is not good.
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