Who's Crazy?

Sitting on the last tram to Ascot Vale after an evening of delightful repartee with Shamil and the gang, I drifted off to the dulcet tones of Julie Andrews***. Something touched my knee. I opened my eyes to find a man's between my legs, mullet and all.

"Sorry man, just cleaning up the tram."

And he was. He had a huge plastic bag full of litter that had been, well, littered over the tram during the day.

"I don't see why we should have to sit in this, everyone wants to ride in a clean tram."

True enough.

"It isn't my job but I don't mind doing it. Do you know why?"

Because you're crazy?

"Because I know when I get home I can have a joint and a beer and get shitfaced!"

Excellent.

He went off and continued cleaning the tram in his exuberant people-friendly manner. All I can say is that, when you think about it, who is crazier the guy cleaning up the rubbish or the people who happily sit amongst it because it is not their job to tidy up after others.

***It's not my fault. It is that fucking Gwen Stefani track with The Lonely Goatherd sample. I had to get it out of my head. I know, I know, the fact that I have it on my iPod is slightly incriminating. In my defense I put it there for this exact eventuality.