Saturday Arvo At The Rubbity – John Ross

Saturday Arvo At The Rubbity
(Saturday Afternoon At The Local Pub)

John Ross 

Blackheath, NSW

‘G’day Bert you old bastard. Haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays. Pull up a stump and I’ll shout you a cold one. Where you been hiding? The missus come the raw prawn or you been crook or sumthin?’

‘Yeh. G’day Dave. No. That misery guts of a boss of mine has been working me as hard as a drover’s bloody dog. Coupla weeks ago I told the drongo that he was stark raving mad putting on his drop kick of a relo as the new super. Well he lost the plot, got his undies all twisted, and gave me a right mouth full. End result I’m on extra hours all bloody week. I complained to the union but that seat polisher of a bloody rep told me I should just cop it and enjoy the extra dosh. Anyway how you travelling Dave? Your missus had that new sprog yet?’

‘Yep. Two weeks ago. What a bloody disaster. The bloody Commodore died on the way to the hospital. A walloper got all bent out of shape cause I stopped in a bus zone. When he saw that Maggy was about to drop the kid he suddenly changed his tune and took us in his car. It was one of those new turbo Falcons. Bloody heck could it go. Took off like a startled deer. 0 to 60 in 7.5 so the copper said. Good fuel consumption also.’

‘Yep, bloody nice wheels. Me mate Bob’s got one. Boy or girl?’

‘Boy. I wanted to call him Donald Bradman, but the missus threw a wobbly and so Archibald Andrew Angus it is. Three A’s. Bloody Alcoholics Anonymous Australia. What a shockin thing to lumber the poor kid with. Here comes Smiley.’

‘Hi ya Smiley. How’s that footy team of yours goin?’

‘Footy team! Bloody bunch of prima donna bloody ballerinas more like it. Whatcha drinkin fellas? The usual? Can I order you blokes some tucker while I’m at the bar?’

Smiley returns with just three schooners. ‘We’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of getting any tucker today. Some dozy dropkick called Alberto the chef a bastard and he’s taken his bat and ball and gone home.’

All the surrounding patrons in unison, ‘Who called the bastard a chef?’

Silence. Deep contemplation of the increasing frothy rings descending in their glasses.

‘Ya watch the fight last night? That Yank bloke couldn’t fight his way outta a wet paper bag if his life depended on it.’

‘Na the missus likes watchin the Aussie Rules. I think it’s their tight, little shorts. I got meself banished to the shed when I called it aerial ping pong played by the Royal Ballet discards. What about you Smiley?’

‘Now don’t you idiots laugh. I had a date.’

‘Wow Smiley. Yer poor old mum come over for a meal?’

‘Yeh. Yeh. Laugh all you want. First time out with a bird in five years and I think I impressed her.’

‘You charm the pants of her with yer cultured ways, handsome smiley face and la de dah manners eh Smiley.’

‘Well she’s meeting me again next Friday for a return match. So put that in yer pipe and smoke it.’

Silence. Deep thought. Contemplation.

‘Been unusually hot for this time of the year. The bloody lawn is still grow’n. Had to tell the missus that the mower was cactus or she would have had me mow’n it again.’

‘That’s gunna change real soon Dave there’s a cool change on the way.’

‘I haven’t heard anything about that.’

‘It actually looks real cold and frosty. Its yer missus, she has just walked in with a pram and is headed this way.’

‘Bloody hell, the meeting with the priest about the christening. Quick fellas think of an excuse for me.

Bert and Smiley. ‘Well gotta go Dave. Leave ya to it.’