Under the Affluence of Incohol

Along with a perfect sunny Melbourne morning, public transport today was sparkling with excited racegoers. Ignoring the empty seats for fear of wiping off the spray tan they clutched on to the tram rails with white knuckles so as not to spill any of the vodka cruiser in the other hand. Dressed for a nightclub in shoes that can only be described as 'we were only joking' and strapless dress that no doubt will result in a day of hiking up the top and pulling down the bottom, I stare at them wondering where did we go wrong? Men fare little better, some in the fashion failures, some in hair sculpting that just looks like they've slept standing up, but more so the end of the day crimes which are roughly along the lines of you look at my chick and I punch you in the face, or I just punch you in the face anyway. Racing was never meant to be a warm up to schoolies week. It seems that Spring Racing general admission has been overtaken by the children of excesses, flesh, booze and definately money.

Fortunately the rest of Melbourne has decided to have a long weekend or just get the hell out of town. There was no one in the normally crowded best coffee in town cafe, there was a car park right outside the bakery and shopkeepers were throwing themselves at me like I was a cure for a global recession. I'll enjoy the city peace a little longer then retreat very soon because as night falls we know that the zombies will return carrying their shoes in one hand and (definitely not the same) vodka cruiser in the other.