In an effort to do something a bit different and to shake off the hard week, I met Jonella and Thom for a Japanese dinner in Briiiighton before catching a film at the Briiiiighton cinema. We saw the Bond film. Yes I've seen it, but it was good enough to see twce. Meeting in Briiiiighton is great as it's about halfway between us.
Briiiiighton is a good place. If you like multi-million dollar homes, mansions, women with blonde tips and men in boat shoes without socks.
Ask Jimmy Rees about the people in Briiiiiighton: He's got the accent down.
I haven't been to Briiiiighton in about ten years. I've been past it, but not to it. The last time I was there I was looking after my bosses dogs and and old colleagues cat in her mansion (husband was a surgeon - the cat was a passive agressive arsehole).
The Japanese place was awesome. Great food.
But the Briiiighton stereotypes were out in full force.
There were more septagenarian men wearing floral shirts than I have ever seen in my life. They all had one of two haircuts too - expensive short back and sides, or the overly long Beethoven look. And they left a trail of expensive aftershave.
The men around Richmond don't wear aftershave. Clean bloke is as good as it gets around here.
I saw more Teslas on the road there that there are around here - LOTS more Telsas. And small yappy dogs. And designer denim.
I know Melbourne is a diverse place, but after ten years of being away from the place, I wasn't prepared for the accuracy of the stereotype.
To shake off this sense of wonder, after visiting this Melbourne enclave, I have to go back to my roots. The Dead Kennedys will bring me back to reality pretty quickly.
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