By Lauren – this week’s Maddawg of Melbourne
The Sprink graced me with her presence last Wednesday with promises of basicness. I believe we failed but I shall still share with you, the 8 simple steps that might help you achieve a ‘basic suburban’ life if you are a Sprink, which you are because you are reading this so apologies in advance for the hangover:
1) We went for a swim in Balwyn (as you may have guessed from above, I really like breaststroke). The outdoor pool was deliciously 27 deg and there weren’t too many old people swimming in the medium lanes. I give it a 7.5/10.
2) Sprink shouted me lunch at Kew Nursery & Cafe, because she knows how to treat a lady. Sprink bought some natives, I ate my house deposit, and we would have scared the locals with our youthful exuberance, if they had heard us (they were 80ish). 10/10 for the plants, 6/10 for the food – perfectly poached eggs, but marked down for the lack of espresso martinis on the menu.
3) After a lengthy debate about whether KMart or IKEA was more suburban, we settled on IKEA so Sprink could buy photo frames, and I could sniff the candle section and play “Mum, there’s a stranger in my room” in the bedroom section. 7/10.
4) Toured the back streets of Abbottsford in the Sprinkmobile, sharing our newly formed Alanis Morrisette cover band vocals with the streets of Abbottsford. I rate Sprink’s driving an 8.5/10 and our vocals a clear 11/10.
5) Went to Sprink’s siiiik pad with the intention of potting plants, but instead got distracted by the sangria and tasty french guy (Sprink’s opinion, not mine) at Robert Burns. I rate the sangria a 7/10 and Frenchy a 3/10. I’m guessing Sprink’s ratings will be slightly different to mine.
6) Scored an invite to the opening of an art exhibition at Compound Interest as we walked past it. Didn’t attend because we instead crashed a private party further up the road where St Jerome himself was announcing his new kewl thing. I don’t even know how, but inbetween the three venues, The Sprink collected another human who came complete with his own bottle of scotch. I liked him. I liked his scotch better. 10/10.
7) We turned around like Bonnie Tyler and found ourselves on the Arts Centre Melbourne forecourt. This part of the evening involved Melbourne Festival’s House of Mirrors and two dudes from LA I renamed to Jeff and Geoff.
8) Ponyfish Island has had some renos done, so we popped on down for an inspection with our gang. And a beer. Sprink made over at least three different peoples’ eyebrows, and promptly disappeared to go eat Maccas. In retrospect, with the Swanston St Maccas shut down to accommodate the epic brilliance that will be Melbourne Metro, I don’t even know where she went… regardless, Ponyfish gets a 9.5/10 – marked down only slightly for the ‘nice guy’ that wanted to chat when I just really needed to get past him to the bathrooms.
The moral of this story is that traipsing around town carting your damp swimwear in a dirty calico bag will get you everywhere, and being basic is a lot harder than it should be.
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