Kick Her In The Face

Apparently there is a drought or something at the moment. The farmers seem to be really upset. The honorable premier of Victoria, Stevie B, is urging us all to conserve water by showering in groups of three. I think we’re only allowed to water our gardens on the 5th Sunday of every second month, and I’m sure I heard someone suggest that we should all brush our teeth with left over ‘Egg Flip’ flavored Big M from 1993, because lets face it- no one bought that shit.

Although I was probably the last person in the greater Melbourne area to admit there is a severe water shortage I have recently joined the hoards of other Melbournians praying for rain. I’ve always been fiercely proud of Melbourne and seeing so many of our beautiful parks and gardens turn brown was the catalyst for my sudden environmental concern. So much so that in recent weeks my prayers for rain have turned into a fully choreographed rain dance, I keep expecting to see Daryl Somers approaching me with a bejeweled microphone in hand.

Like a lot of people I’ve been watching the nightly news, listening to endless promises of rain and looking up at the sky waiting for the downpour. Despite the false hope provided by those few brief showers we’ve experienced recently I remain melancholy, wishing and waiting for some rain. So it may come as a surprise to know that today during the few brief moments when the sky’s opened up and gave the CBD some mush needed moisture I was not rejoicing in the streets and hugging my fellow dancers, I was starring up towards the sky, screaming profanities at the rain…

What began as a simple trip into to the city to sort out some minor enrollment issues at university quickly turned into a cross country walking event worthy of a Commonwealth Games bronze medal, (I’m trying not to exaggerate.) I was experiencing what I call ‘Administrative Redirection,’ this occurs when office administrators, paid to carry out extremely difficult tasks like stamping forms, redirect you from one office to another because they are incapable of answering a question without involving six other admin workers. It was on my third trip from the Bourke Street campus to the Cardigan Street Campus that the rain began to fall.

By this stage I was somewhat tired and aggravated as a result of all the ‘Administrative Redirection’. I was hastily rushing across Bourke Street, eager to get back to see Carmen in the Cardigan Street admin office so I could kick her in the face for making me run back and forwards all afternoon. I hadn’t really noticed the rain, until I placed my right foot on a metal drain cover which was now glistening with its fresh layer of rain droplets.

Can you see where this is going?

I slipped.

My entire body was airborne for what felt like 10 seconds. Then I hit the pavement like a load of bricks- a load of bricks wearing really expensive jeans.

The embarrassment of situations like this usually prompts the adrenaline to kick in so you can get up and walk away quickly. Pretending nothing has happened despite the fact that you have immense pain shooting up your spine and half of the Bourke Street Mall is pointing and laughing at you. In this instance I laid on the ground for a few moments, oblivious to everything around me, every thing except the rain. In a moment of sheer insanity I laid there in the street, looked up into the clouds and screamed profanities at the rain.

Almost instantly the rain stopped, I can’t help but feel responsible. I haven’t been able to shake my guilt or the debilitating pain in my back, all day. So it’s back to praying and dancing for me, feel free to join in.

Five, six, seven, eight...

GRAPHIC REPRESENTATION OF PLANNED ATTACK:

Me: Violent Yellow Kicker

Carmen: Unconscious Blue Victim