
The day finally arrived that I would make my first cash
advance with my credit card overseas and see it shink out of the National
Australian Bank ATM in the form of monopoly money! Just kidding…but seriously.
You think American currency looks like child's-play, just take a look at these!
Whenever I received change back at my purchase I was ever so slightly tempted
to say, “Um…no this isn’t real money, and no Pepsi is NOT okay.”
The ride into the city is still a bit of a mystery as to how
in the flippin’ WORLD we found the place. We got on the train to Flinder’s St,
but Mom said to get off at Melbourne Central. No, we can’t get to Melbourne
Central on this train we have to step off in North Melbourne, get on another
train, go BACK, get off at Flagstaff and THEN get on another train that goes to
Melbourne Central. It’s all very dizzying. From there, the plan was to meet up
with my darling sisters at the Uni (sorry, university, these people talk funny)
and head into the market from there. But of course, my twin always has another,
last minute, great idea that somehow is always better than mine. Hmmm. Weird.
You want to just meet
up at the Vic Market instead? Okay! As soon as I figure ooouuutt…where Nooorth
is…?? Right. There are no mountains or giant space needles sticking up in
the horizon, remember? So, between my brother and me we shook up the
etch-e-sketch board map (that’s how concrete travel plans always turn out to be) and made
an improv route to the Vic Market via Franklin St. I think I only huffed at him
once, and he smart-mouthed twice…or maybe it was the other way around.
I don’t even remember where the heck that is now…it’s by La
Trobe right? Running North- South? No…wait.
We got to the Market just as they were setting up and
smoking up the grills. So, I think we picked the perfect spot to wait for the
slow-pokes (that’s right, we beat them there) wagging their tails behind them.
A certain BBQ booth was burning hickory wood to roast their meat and it smelled
DIVINE! Hoy Pinoy, Filipino grill was my first choice of the night. I chose to
give variety the benefit of the doubt and went with not one, but two skewers of
meat. One pork, one chicken. Do you remember the first time you tried eating
pork by ripping it apart with the bare of your teeth? Yeah, me neither. One
thing I DIDN’T consider before I made that choice.
As we sat at a café table enjoying our spoils there seemed
to be some sort of, um, “performance” going on at this stage set behind us.
Picture this: the worst crossed-dressed, blonde-wigged, fitness trio from the
80s. Got it? Okay, now picture them flipping each other over themselves and
other things, AND (this is my favorite part) dragging in the innocent
bystanders as tributes. See it? Okay, now put all of that to the
strangest-sounding, I’ve-never-heard-of-this-rock-band music ever patented on
this planet.
All I’m going to say is I don’t think ANYONE in a sober mind
would attempt half the things they did. No, really. I’m pretty sure I heard a
guy or two yell “OOMPAH!!” at the top of their lungs. Drunkards for sure, I’m
tellin’ ya.
After that it was a cinnamon
chocolate-filled soft Bretzel (Bretzel. Not Pretzel, Bretzel) and two hot,
freshly-made jam doughnuts from the American Doughnuts Kitchen. Pretty spot-on,
Australia. Good job.
On the way back, Maddie gave us
all the latest at her *lovely job that she so adores, and about what enormously
tasking duties she gets paid to do at a much lower salary than her superiors.
Even here she manages a sense of humor. That is something I hope I can echo. As
long as you can laugh, nothing is as bad as it seems.
*Insert the biggest amount of sarcasm you can muster.
What a fulfilling night! I can’t
wait to go back! It’s night’s like these I wish I had a bottomless appetite and
an invincible metabolism.
Cheers,
Jess
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