YK and I have managed to get home to our appointed stop on our appointed bus route exactly once in three weeks -- although we have figured out how to walk home from the interchange, how to hail a special secret bus (and that they won't stop at your stop unless you yell over their shoulder, no matter how many times you say "#44" as you're boarding), and that you can walk through a bottle-o (drive-through liquor stores) at 10:30 p.m. We've also made a few buddies, including the bottle-o guy and a dude from Queensland who moved to Adelaide for a girl before "things went ass up."
Pretty glad about that secret bus, though. On one of our late-night slogs home, some yabbo in a ute honked at us and YK snarled, "You could offer us a ride, douchebag."
1 comment:
It's nice to see your language is acclimatizing apace.
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