the painters
They’re painting the hotel next door, a big six story building with plenty of high blank walls streaked with red dust stains and dozens of verandahs facing south across the river. The painters hired for the job like to retire to the car park across the road from time to time to look up at the building and discuss the task specifics. Young paint-spattered blokes mostly with a couple of older and cleaner supervisors.
The Crew.
There were five of them grouped over there this morning, chatting away on the bosses’ time and smoking, all of them smoking, all of them smoking from the same shared cigarette and you have to believe me but I have never seen one spliff service so many as it went around the five of them at least five times.
Back in my day a joint wouldn’t last two rounds with three blokes the way we drew them down. Less if the Black Prince was in on the share, him and The Bod.
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