CFO RECALLS GREEK POET
Phil trucked his Black Shadow back to Victoria, and the route went through Sydney. Boris organised twenty or so of us to have dinner with him and look at his Black Shadow.
He found a Serbian restaurant in a car park, the better to do this. I told my boss I was leaving on the dot at five to have dinner in a Serbian restaurant forty kilometres away. It had been raining and the roads were wet, and the traffic was heavy. My normal commute is six kilometres, and the traffic is light. I don’t know how the guys who commute forty kilometres do it. If I had to do it, I would drink.
More.
I admired the Vincent and bought a beer, and circulated. Then I went outside and admired the Vincent again, and had some dinner. We found it was Phil’s birthday, so we bought him a cake and sang him a song and cheered him. Then I bought another beer and went outside to admire the Vincent some more.
They were way ahead of their time, and it’s a VERY tidy restoration.
The traffic had died down when I left. The GPS directed me along the Hume Highway. There were eight fixed speed cameras, and one mobile speed camera. I won’t be going THAT way again.
“How was the Croatian restaurant?” the boss asked me the next day.
“Serbian”, I corrected him. “Don’t call them Croatians. They will cut you. It was good. Their beer was palatable, and there was lots of meat.”
“Sounds all right”, he said. “Where was it again?”
“It was in Sappho Road at Warwick Farm”, I told him.
“Sappho, eh?”
“Yes,” I said. “There are a few restaurants on that road.”
“I’m not surprised”, he said. “I guess it makes people think of eating out.”
About the Author
Al Al does a bit of everything, and likes hanging around with Boris, because there are generally motorcycles and whiskey, and because hilarity generally ensues. He wastes his spare time not moderating the BIKE ME! forums, where he posts occasionally and is regarded as unfair, unbalanced and unmedicated. Shows how much THEY know.
