Glad: Flirting aside, that I won't see them again til Sunday.
Sudden shock: After checking the computer system, realising that I will actually see them again before they leave, damnit.
Recent thoughts:
'Well... if they can't even manage to google 'Adelaide Tuesday night' then they don't deserve to have fun.' (Note: Adelaide's reputation was saved, and I directed them to PJs comedy night)
(On the topic of what to do with a very large massive, probably stale, lettuce and white bread baguette given to me in kindness by an Irish lad) - 'Its a waste to chuck it. I don't want to take it on the bus. Or eat it. Perhaps I could give it to a homeless person -*mind jumps to V* -Nah, he wouldn't eat it for fear of germs.'
V stood behind the barred-off counter and chatted with me while I closed up yesterday. Last week, I had inadvertantly let out something like a... shriek... when I looked up from counting money to glimpse his withered form on the other side of the desk. Strangely, I think he feels like we have more of a bond now, after I offered like 'being in my own little world' as an explanation.
"That happens to me too. Sometimes I in the kitchen. Wiz my back to the door. And someone come in, and I don't see him, and he say something - ask me a question, or something, you know. Same thing happens - You ok now?"
I'd like to know more about V - how he came to be living here, for instance - but if I asked straight out I think I would make him angry and scare him off. Last night he mentioned a law lecture at Flinders that he had gone to some years ago, out of interest. What kind of guy who reads law stuff for fun and goes to university lectures lives in a hostel dorm room when they are, what, 70 years old? I guess, the same kind of guy who carries slices of bread in his jacket and spreads newspaper down on his floor to eat, who has secretive requests for rubber bands and tape, and whose hands are raw and shedding dry skin from continual washing. That sort of fellow.
I was just reassuring a spaced-out American guy that we would move him from room 1 next Monday.
"Once we smelly lot are out," said a member of a football team who was at the counter.
American dude shook his head. "You have no idea."
I smiled. Perhaps I had some idea.
"I had a clown in my room!" said the American, and repeated it again for the footy guy who didn't grasp the literal meaning. "A clown was staying there! ...I'm scared of clowns!"
The idea of waking up between V and that grinning face-painted Korean amused me greatly. I secretly love it when all the oddballs are forced together.
