Winter Shorts: I
It was one of those mornings. Crisp, but sunny. Calm, but crowded (streets). No traffic, but impossible to find parking… As it was my day off, I had a few errands to run , from visiting my barbershop to stopping by the pharmacy. Traffic was driving me crazy. I was hungry, hungover, and completely not caffeinated. My impatience was driving me crazy. From the old ladies who don’t hit the throttle when they see the green light, to the barista at the coffee shop; who was literally learning the software..
When I was on my way home, I was already telling myself that I had one last job to do: have my watch batteries changed. Well, sometimes there is a massive difference between expectations and reality. This was one of them as I noticed I locked myself out. Breathing heavily, I grabbed the good old Swiss knife from the car and lockpicked the house. Yes, my house, in broad daylight, with neighbours staring at me.
Got in, grabbed my watch and hopped on the car. When I was in front of the shop, the sign killed me… “Back in 2 mins. Please call XXXYYYZ”. He picked up pretty late and asked what I was after, I told him; he said he’d be coming down.
More waiting. Still hungry, still impatient…
An old man walked downstairs and opened the door.
“Sorry, my wife is sick. I was looking after her.”
I felt like a bellend, after those words. Then he started working on the watch while I was looking at his diploma.
“Alex Iskender Ozmen” — Westernised first name, Turkish middle name and last name…
-Where abouts in Turkey are you from?”
-Istanbul… Have you ever been there?
-Spent 10 years there.
-Oh, are you Turkish?
-Evet (yes).
He got too excited that he popped the old battery and it was rolling down the table. I caught it and handed it to him.
-You are a good hunter, aren’t you?
-“Was”.
He told me he had been living in Australia for 41 years, he apologised for his broken Turkish, he elaborated his love for Sydney, and so on… An 84 year-old Turkish man, made my day, with his light-hearted banter. I love Marrickville.
