My last day at The Ekka is relatively uneventful. Although still as aggressive as ever, Terry is horrific at a marginally slower rate. She must be tired. I encourage her to take breaks. Regularly.
Peter is helping out for a bit. I'm watching with curiosity as the owner of the coffee stall opposite us is scribbling madly on a piece of paper. I wonder aloud what he's writing.
"He's probably bipolar," says Peter the Devotee without batting an eye.
***
Tonight, I'm going to an Aboriginal & Islander Queer Night with Carlie and Sally. The Ekka folk repeatedly inquire about my post-work plans. Taking my audience into consideration, I answer a party with friends and leave it at that.
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