The Wrong Side of the Road

Continued from Feet to the Floor. 

The little bell rings once more as I push my way out the cafe door.
"Nate!" I look around to see Claire waving at me from the other side of George Street. I smile and wave back, glad to see a friendly face.

"What's up, man?" she asks as I cross the road toward her.
"Not much," I shrug, "I was trying to study but there's some weirdos around right now."
"Oh, yeah?" She raises her eyebrows a little, "What are you up to now then?"
"Just gonna head home, Jen and I are gonna hang out for a bit."

Claire finds it a little weird that Jen and Nate manage to live together. She could never live with a sibling. Particularly if she'd moved to the other side of the world with that sibling. Surely there's no other family left to take your frustrations out on?

"Sweet as," Claire replies, "Flick us a text later if you're free!"
"Will do," I wave again, crossing back over the road just in time to see CHAÏ's door open, and my best buds walking out. I make a quick 90 degree turn and pick up my pace a little towards the apartment.

Perhaps it would have been best to just cross the road again, because within seconds I'm being yelled at once more.

"Hey! Hey, you!"

I pretend not to hear for a little while, but eventually it's clear to both of us that there is no one else in the street. I turn around reluctantly.

"Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you, boy!"
This guy storms over to me, and proceeds to yell at me about respect, and how this is his town, and all these clichés you'd never actually expect to hear in real life. I nod and keep my eyes to the ground until he finally stops yelling. He spit on the ground next to me then pushes past me. And just like that, he's gone.

I wait a few minutes before calling Jen, trying to process what's just happened.

"Oi, Jen," I start, a little shaky, "I just had a run-in with that guy again,"
"What? What's happened?"
I tell her, and to my surprise, she laughs.
"C'mon Nate," she reasons, "The worst thugs we have here are the Mongrel Mob. They're hardly any issue. You know Michael, he's a postie and he delivers to them all the time! Apparently they're really nice apart from the fact they hang their colours out on the line on washing day!"

I shake my head even though she can't see it, "Nah, Jen, listen, I don't reckon they were a gang. I almost wonder if they're like... Middle Eastern mafia or something."

Jen cracks up again, "Fuck off, Nate, you know there's nothing like that here. Sure, there's mafia back home, but not here. The worst thing that could happen is one of the Killer Bees might steal your bus money."

I swear back at her and hang up.