Charlie caught himself in a reflective mood this morning after walking up Murray Street on his lunch break. He felt a tingle run down his spine when he passed the hallowed turf of the Ambar laneway.
He took a minute to take it in and realised that about 80% of the connections he ever made with people were done in that laneway. Some nights he can’t even remember going into the club despite spending plenty on an event inside. He told The Times,
“I was a laneway specialist. I’d typically come up for a bit of fresh air and get stuck talking shit to a bunch of randoms and before I knew it the sun was coming up ha ha. Ah, take me back, now I have a second kid on the way and I’m too tired to even go for a pint”
Shaking off the grim spectre of reality from his back, Charlie decided to recreate some of the good moments. Beckoning us to follow him down the laneway. He continued,
“I once ran into a certain AFL player right here. I offered him a dart and he said he didn’t smoke but he’d gladly have any of what I was on. We split a pinga right there and then. You don’t get moments like that once you grow up”
At random, we pulled the nearest 30-something-year-old off Murray St to ask them if they had fond memories. They did. She told The Times,
“Ah, take me back. I used to smoke menthols here in between losing half my body weight on the dancefloor down below. I think I actually enjoyed the laneway more, that’s not dissing the club, it was just that good up here. That’s where an AFL player asked me if I wanted to do a line off his stiffy”
We asked Charlie if he’d ever be tempted to go and give the laneway another go. His expression suddenly went from relaxed to vexed as he continued,
“Nah, you can’t be living in the past, I wouldn’t know what to do anymore. Frankly, I think a big night on the pingaz would probably do me in. I’m literally scared of being awake while the sun is coming up”
Fair enough, Charlie, fair enough.
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