Sutherland Tales

I headed into work a couple of hours late this morning. Normally, when I leave home at 8am, Sutherland is full of like-minded worker drones and the odd group of elderly cyclists in their brightly coloured spandex suits.

10am is a different story. By that time the junkies, derros and unemployed drongos have left their crack-dens and are roaming about. They are on their way to Centrelink or to Sutherland Court House, both of which I walk past on the way to the station.

These people are walking stereotypes. This morning I saw two surly 19 year old boys, in tracksuits and mullets, walking with fists clenched, spouting a random profanity every few steps as they walked a couple of metres in font of their mother into the Court House.

I saw a grown man, mulleted and track suited once again, chasing a magpie along the ground while his goofy hobbit-like friends cheered him on.

I saw an extremely young mother on the train platform, talking on her mobile and pushing a pram, wearing ugg boots, with her tracky pants rolled up to show of the tatts on her bruised, sore covered legs.

All this on a ten minute walk to the station.

At least when I saw this kind of thing in Darwin I could blame it on the city’s remoteness. Sutherland sucks…

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One Response to Sutherland Tales

  1. Aaron says:

    So does Blacktown.

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