The Secret Life of a Very Bored University Student: Part 2

Sometime in March, I wrote a post about some rather interesting people I happened across one Wednesday. Yeah, I did just include a hyperlink to my own work. Shame and modesty are both foreign concepts to me.

This semester, I have been cursed with a 4 hour break every Wednesday. I know some people might consider this a blessing, and others have longer breaks (some on multiple days), but this is about me, so we'll ignore them.

Usually I pass the time by eating something unhealthy, and then doing some work on an assignment/procrastinating.

This. Only with less books. Okay, with no books.

 However, I've finished all my assignments for the semester. My exams aren't until the end of June. I could have started studying, but I would have just ended up procrastinating. So really, I did myself a favour by going elsewhere.

I considered roaming the University, but 4 hours is a long time to roam. So instead, I hopped on a bus and went to the city. I was walking past the Treasury Casino when I noticed a strange man wandering through the throng of people heading to their various destinations. Suddenly, he began shouting quite loudly in what I believe was Greek. For a moment I entertained the thought that he was the emissary of Poseidon, come to demand tributes of oxen and silver to placate the Earth-Shaker, lest he raise the Brisbane River and drown us all in a flood of dirty water and tiger sharks.

Cue the song 'Whipeout'

Then I noticed the nearby markets, and figured that he was probably promoting them, not heralding our doom. This was confirmed when he switched to English and began to demand that passer-bys experience the bargains. He probably wasn't speaking Greek originally either. I'm not good with languages.

That experience out of the way, I drifted through Queen Street Mall, looking for a means of entertaining myself. Upon exiting the Mall-proper, I passed Hungry Jacks and encountered a man who I can only describe as "Hobo Van Helsing".



Replace the buzz-saw and crossbow with some Woolworths bags and add
a few feet of beard, and we have our man!

He strode across the street with purpose, his eyes blazing with the determination of the truly driven. I figure he had either spotted Dracula eating out of a bin, or he'd realised he was about to miss his bus. Vampire slaying on a budget - not always a victorious experience.

I figured I'd seen just about all Queen Street had to offer in the ways of weird people, so I returned to St Lucia in order to acquire some cheap, unhealthy food. While in the food court, I took it upon myself to once again inconvenience people with friends by sitting at a table for three by myself. Take that, socialites. I didn't see anyone interesting there, but I just thought I'd make mention of that particular habit of mine. It's not my fault my friends all have different timetables to me, buuuut I might as well make the most of it.

After eating, I passed through the Wednesday markets at the end of Campbell Place. Here I witnessed a fairly brutal argument between a pair of Marxists. They were arguing about whether or not Vladimir Putin can be considered a socialist, and it was getting pretty hectic. But really, all they were doing was 'Putin' on a scene.


HA!

And now, here I am in the Humanities library, whiling away the last half hour or so of my break by fiddling with my blog. Time well spent, I think.

Till next!