8 October, 2021
Wayne’s World: But wait… there’s steak knives with that
Gee with only a few sleeps, (76 in fact) until Christmas, I thought I should tackle the common problem that afflicts millions worldwide… ‘Impulse Buying’!
All my life this “wallet depleting mental disease” has plagued me. Just sitting here tapping away at this keyboard is bringing back fond memories of my past transgressions, or transactions.
Like when I was a rug rat, we all lived and breathed the big TV shows like Starsky & Hutch.
Now, I could not go out and buy that big red tomato they drove around in.
But I did go out and buy, at a ridiculous price from Myer, the big open knitted woollen cream and brown coat that Starsky regularly wore.
Absolutely bloody useless in the Vicoldia winter, and even worse when it rained. That thing stunk to the high heavens when wet.
To clean, it had to be done by dry cleaners, so it became an awfully expensive impulse purchase.
But when you’re a stupid kid with limited income, having to build and sell heaps of bikes to accommodate teenage fashion trends, it was a necessary purchase, and crikey that thing looked good on me.
Now don’t get me started on how much money as a teenager I forked out regularly for the jeans and trousers with the flare legs or the 3 plus inch high platform shoes.
We also cannot go past the cost of maintaining the big hair, in fact for me, this was an astronomical outlay, as I had curly sandy hair way down past my shoulders and the hairdresser’s certainly saw me coming when it came to looking after it. Back then, all the old barbers just wanted to give you was short back and sides.
As I got older, that did not mean getting smarter. Then came cars, and XY Fords were my new love, with that huge 351 V8 motor that roared and really did pull the chicks, but at a very high-speed cost to run. In particular, all the speeding fines that were associated with being a excitable young buck.
So next, when I saw some beautiful machine doing an illegal burnout in front of the Age newspaper building on a Friday night, that left all others for dead, I knew that this beast had to come home with me.
Now this beast was an old funeral hearse, with a 454 cubic inch fully worked motor, and in the back was even a coffin, which we later fiberglassed the insides, to turn it into a big esky, fantastic at parties and again back then, another chick magnet.
Even as a married man I still could not shake that disease. I purchased on time payments, a cookware set for way too much, but to their credit, they are bloody fantastic still after 20 plus years.
In today’s times, I seem to be getting worse, and me thinks the locals are getting wise to me, as walking around the Tanks markets, all of a sudden, I hear “Wayne’s World” being yelled from under a gazebo surrounded by hundreds of hats are Steve and Fiona who sold me a fantastic top hat recently at Holloways Beach Markets.
Well in I walked to the greeting of “we have a hat that is you all over,” being the hat mad creature I am, out comes the wallet and me walking away with a black Pork Pie hat and a red Fedora hat.
To really show you how much this disease has me by the gonads, last week I drove 40 minutes out to Trinity Beach in peak hour traffic to buy a Banjolele.
Why did I buy this little banjo, this idiot doesn’t know either as I do not have a musical bone in my body.