It’s sometime after midnight and we’re tucked away into a corner booth at City Extra.
We’d planned to speak to Pedro at a better location, but George was horrendously drunk and equally dressed, making it hard to get in to anywhere for a trendy interview with one of this city’s trendy photographers.
Pedro is giving his ‘coffee’ the evil eye, waiting for it to flinch, while George harasses the waitress, demanding a dozen eggs and some milk.
It’s getting weird.
“So…” I interrupt “what kind of stuff are you working on at the moment?” it’s a stupid question, but Pedro is too distracted by his awful coffee.
He’s a fuzzy looking indie kid, immaculately dressed, with a gray cardigan hanging off one shoulder and a big, fucking camera hanging from the other – I’m so jealous of his edginess that I’m actually starting to hate him.
“This is possibly the worst coffee I’ve ever had. I’ve drunk from better looking gutters” Pedro is looking a little unsteady, the tattoo on his shutter finger shaking as he holds his ugly mug of piss.
At first, I take him to be a douche bag, another fashion wanker complaining about everything, but then I take a sip. I can’t actually remember the last time I had a coffee this bad. It’s terrible, like weak kava and foam… I suddenly lose all interest in Pedro’s photographic career and we discuss the awfulness of this shitty coffee for the next ten minutes.
At that point, George began to scream about his still-absent eggs and milk. Kicking his legs about like a misbehaving child, knocking utensils about and upsetting the late-night clientèle.
Pedro leans over the table and mutters “If you pay for this coffee, you’re a fucking idiot.”
So… we ran out of the restaurant and across Circular Quay, George’s angry yawping booming in the background.
…
Long story short?
The cafe folk called the police, George had to do a lot of running that night, Pedro and I got drunk.
Fuck interviews, here’s some of his work:
Fucking incredible.
Roy looks like a dude I know.
The photographs or the gibbering beat-ish scrawl?
I’m using that story for ma current assignment for English ext.
Yeah mother fucker,
along with chivalry, plaigarism is dead
x
Sogdogs,
I’m cool with that.
As long as it’s extension English.
Love,
George
Anyone who goes to City Extra deserves it. Pedro should have shot the coffee. Bet it wasn’t Fair Trade either. I’m maybe putting a shot of your Ants Pants poster into The City News this week under ‘Pole Poster of the Week’. Respect for defying Clover’s tidy-town-temperance movement.
Michael,
Thank you Sir – thank you very much.
We do what we can to plaster the poles with our pasquinades.
BTW – I love your site.
George