So I had an interview to do at The Emporium Hotel, Fortitude Valley. This involved schlepping from Brunswick Street station at 8am in the morning. For those not in the know, this is Junky Cowboy hour in those parts. FYI, the street scent was "Little Bangkok". Then, after the long walk along Anne street, I was hoping for some relaxing, cooling and classy minutes before my interview. Instead my eyes were met with this retinal assault:
RED. Red in one of the most treeless, sunniest parts of the Sunshine State. It felt like walking out of sunshine and into the sun itself. Or molten lava. And the mirrors with leaves for no reason, and the marble, and the chrome AND gold plate. It was like a conceptual interpretation of Nelly's mouth ("Country Grammar" Nelly, not "I'm like a bird" Nelly) , slightly glamorous, but also v. scary. All I wanted was a seat. Instead I got this:
Yep. I sat in one of those puppies, or what's the word for baby zebra? Oh it's foal, borrin'. Anyway....where was I? oh yes, WHAT IS THIS? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? WHY?
I don't have any explanations, I'm not even going to attempt. All I'll say is that it felt like a spot on piss-take of classic Queensland cliches. All I needed was some frangipani prints and a cane side table and I'd feel at home. That is if I were a deranged pineapple farmers wife.
No comments:
Post a Comment