See?
WHEN I say ‘stalking’, I mean 90 per cent is a social experiment that can only further one’s development, and 10 per cent is personal enjoyment. Roughly.
In my continuing attempt to relate to others, I have decided to single out some strangers and follow them. This will sharpen my observational skills and encourage an interest in other people.
It turns out I only have time to kick off with one person today, but what a corker. The subject pops out of Flinders Street Station, dressed ordinarily enough in a grey tracksuit, but walking like a lunatic: fists clenched and swinging, chin up, holding his arse a touch gingerly. He’s moving at a cracking pace and definitely up to something.
It takes all my energy to keep up pace; he’s got a blatant disregard for road safety and at one point I almost lose him until he stops at the lights, shifting from one foot to the other. My mission is to follow him to his destination, and he finally climaxes at an undisclosed address on Queen Street, which a quick Google later reveals to be offices for lease; just the sort of place where a big drug deal would go down on any number of gritty Australian crime dramas I’ve seen.
Keeper? Yes. Extremely exciting.
Hey man, now you're really living 
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