Last night I walked into the local watering hole of a small but select group of ageing Broken Hillians. They sat around a long table, taking up most of the space in the small barroom in the South Australian. As I entered the little pub they all turned towards me. I frantically scoured the space before me looking for my friends. Not seeing them I sat down.
A man with a moustache looked at me slowly, and asked me how I was doing this evening. It was intimidating. My voice cracked as I replied, "Fine thanks." I had to walk through them to search the back of the bar. It turned out to be empty. Then I had to walk back past that intimidating group all sitting around sipping their drinks... Ahhh they all belonged there and I didn't. It was SCARY.
I later found out we were meeting everyone at the Southern Cross, not the South Australian.