Melbourne boy

Went shopping, spotted a cute hipster boy, now sitting in a cafe, sipping a soy chai tea latte. The sky is overcast. Quintessential day in Melbourne, really.

Even though I come from Sydney and Melbourne, therefore, is hardly worlds away I still feel that being from Sydney lends me an air of exoticism - as it does them.

The cute hipster boy works at the clothing store opposite the road from where I now sit. Last time I visited Melbourne I happened upon the shop and we got chatting. I may very well have bought an extremely cropped T-shirt that I will almost certainly never wear, purely because I thought he was cute. Ah, the power of beauty.

And it did, possibly, cross my mind that wouldn’t it be nice to get a “hit” of good looks today when I wandered down Brunswick St. I wandered nonchalantly in but spotted (without looking) that yes! he was in. I looked at clothes. He said, “hi, how’s it going?” I gave him a winning smile and said, “great, thanks!”

I looked at every single thing in the store. Then I left.

Five seconds later I came back. I asked him, “where are the toilets?”

He was grinning at me in a stupid way that made me feel like my hipster-lust was obvious. “Head south, turn right and there are public toilets.”

Then I left again.

Sometimes I dream of quitting my fulfilling job in an environmental NGO, and instead spend the days creating maps in which I chart all the cute boys working behind bars, and serving in cafes and retail stores in hipster cities across the globe.