Impro. (Carlisle Street)

Black runabout on Chapel corner promising LIQUOR Delivered in Under 60 Minutes. Impossible to conduct the conversation here whether in the suburban streets, the biz. or culture quarter, among the BBQ, footy, travel & adventure set. No where. At the pedestrian crossing opposite the fruit shop woman with window down irate at the cars entering from the side street: And you too….People, get yourselves an attitude. On a board next corner the burger joint advertising organic beef: Good Karma…. Thirsting for chai and a seat after that lot within the 100 metres, the preferred possie occupied. Frizzy-haired young lass head burrowed in her book took a time to catch – IMPRO: Improvisation and the Theatre. Yoga at the end of the row and real estate brochure adjacent. At the other end there was emergency teaching woes. Was it the LA yoga operator who was ridiculously flexible, stronger in his ankles than the poor lad in his…. something? Had the young Harpo Marx been properly observant she might have taken the polished gestures laid on beside her: with pen and paper (both hands and fingers re-paying close study); answering the smiling waitress exiting the washroom, No, all good, with only raised hands and palms half surrender. Discreet inward palm and pointing fingers raised to eye-level subsequently shielding the cough. Spectacular lessons entirely lost on the unobservant waif. – ….change my life…. heart rate. (Yoga pair.) All the rich movement too over the soy latte: scraping a modicum of honey; drainer deftly placed and pouring carefully tea-ceremony-tidy without the merest hint of drip. Re-place the drainer in the pot, stir with some vigour now and sip without gulping. Who needs a cigarette young lady? Effortless. Much to learn people-watching, forget all the manuals; a wealth of matter within the crowd. (“I believe that no man liveth who can grasp the whole beauty of the meanest living creature:” Dürer from some recent reading.) Minor, minor erotic later undirected with the remainder of the honey: a pity to waste, enviro friendly thinking of the global poor. Three-four forefinger scoops abstracted/concentrated let ‘em look. But by then the lass had departed immediately following her pee, another missed opportunity. The Nepalese lad in the kitchen with a helper on a busy Saturday unable to be placed in North Asia earlier in the week lustrous hair like that and oily skin. In Afghanistan would have come under the eye of the cameleers who went both ways. Once he had revealed his nationality the Burmese Te-Zu-Dje-Bade, Thank you had been mistakenly offered him, – luckily Harpo not having been in attendance….. Nice white floors…. more advanced. (Yoga unending, the Jewish girl doing most of the listening a familiar face from years past.) The trad. Jews absent here at The Wall and missed more than a little, invariably they usefully leaven the mix. In the dark cavern-like ex-butcher shop (kosher) lighting advantageous under the gaze of these young waitresses smiling in excess of routine, fine quiet tributes glimpsed in passing, if the author was not greatly mistaken. Middle-aged crowd – the young actor could not hold herself up long on that stage. On the benches outside awaiting the calls the dark Indian Ubereats.