ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A local man is lamenting the one Friday he’s not able to join his mates at the Gelded Seahorse for some after work drinks.
City worker Dave Donaldson looked out the window of the D45 electric trolleybus as it wound its way through the French Quarter and out on the arterial roads to Betoota Heights.
On the corner of Rue de Garçons and Avenue du Branlette, he spied a group of blokes his age, in the sun, enjoying each other’s company as they caught up over a few pints.
“Man,” he sighed.
“They don’t know how lucky they are.”
The 34-year-old is on the way home because this evening, he’s flying out to the coast with his wife to attended the wedding of an obscure family member of hers.
So obscure that Dave has confirmed to The Advocate that his name wasn’t even on the invitation.
“I tried to argue I wasn’t invited,” he said.
“The groom has introduced himself to me three times in two years. Would they miss me? No. Do they know my name? Maybe. What am I doing this for?”
Dave turned to our reporter, who was also looking at the window at the boys, and laughed.
“Because I’m a good husband. That’s why I’m going to Tugan Beach this weekend. Maybe next weekend.”
More to come.
