Posts Tagged ‘inner city wankers’

CAST (and what they are wearing)


RTS –  a sometimes bitter, cynical thirty something woman who has wind battered, smog splattered hair from having driven manically across town with the window wound down in peak hour traffic. She is wearing a plain white summer dress that has been smeared in vegemite and snot from her young child, who has also torn the bottom two buttons off.


Producer Boy – a well meaning, highly excitable, documentary maker that for some reason now working in the field of making documentaries, minus the footage. He is wearing daggy ‘middle aged men’ shorts, which is ironic because he is not middle aged, matched with a child’s size livid green jumper that, being five sizes too small, rides high on his midriff.


The Talent – a comfortably confident young woman, who without trying to hard is stylishly dressed, and for the most part, quite sensible sounding.


Contributor Chick – a large haired young woman with a booming, over confidant, perfectly articulating voice. Outwardly she projects her ‘just a country girl’ roots, but this is matched with a fierce and striving city living ambition. She works at the ABC and even though it is well after work hours, she is wearing her identity card around her neck like a VIP card carrier mingling with the masses at a rock concert


Hipsters  – A homogenous bunch of twenty something’s that would be mortified to know they have been grouped together homogenously.

One – Has a long blond fringe swept to one side, which, mysteriously, hangs in his eyes. He is wearing a flannelette shirt, which is a trademark garment of Bogans, who wear them because they are cheap and warm, as opposed to hipsters, who wear them because they are not Bogans, which means they are making a fashion statement



Two – Is wearing tight blacks jeans matched with a tight white shirt and heavy black rimmed glasses, he seems to be shooting for the ‘cool, but intellectual’ look, which he might have had more luck with if he didn’t look like a fresh faced twelve year old.

Three – Is in blue jeans that are so tight they could have been painted on. The bottoms are rolled up at the three quarter mark and his singlet is so large, loose and low cut that the neck line comes down to his belly button, revealing a small, but prominent, patch of chest hair. On his pinky finger is the kind of solid bold, gold ring that Tony Soprano would envy.

Four and Five – two young girls that have so fully embraced their hipsterhood they are almost bowed under the weight of their clanking, clashing accessories. They scream ‘fashionable’ so loudly that your eyes hurt. Yet despite this brashness, their eyes are timid and nervous looking, and when no one else is looking, they give each other’s hands a little squeeze.




We watch as RTS, in a blaze of blunders, pulls up to the traffic lights, frantically checking her watch even though she knows she is going to be late.

Three young hipsters sail past on free wheelin’ bicycles as RTS sits stuck in her car, they leisurely park their bikes outside the production house. While RTS is perspiring smog, these fine young things have barely broken a sweat, having only had to ride less than five blocks to arrive here

RTS, caught between fond nostalgia for the times when she too lived a car free life in the inner city, and a stabbing bitterness for the naive bubble she believes they live in, stares vacantly at them, not noticing the lights have turned green until the cars behind her start blaring their horns.





We follow RTS as she arrives, late, into the production house meeting room, which is a harshly lit room enclosed with glass sliding doors. It sits right at the very entrance to the building, and the glass wall makes the inhabitants seem like they are in a cramped and over exposed fish bowl.

Over sized office chairs form a ring around the large circular table, the ridiculously pompous chairs are such an inefficient use of space that no more than 10 people can sit comfortably at the table. This has the rather unfortunate awkward side effect of their being no room for all the latecomers.

As people continue to arrive late, the over sized chair dwellers make cursory gestures of moving along, which mostly involves shuffling their asses in their seat but not actually moving, before looking up at the late person and giving a soft smile and a shrug of the shoulders as if to say, “I tried my best”. Contributor Chick is the most guilty of this.

As a result a small cluster of late comers forms at the door, some squeezed in on stools, and the rest left standing.

RTS, shocked by the fact that not one person who has entered the building has shown any signs of age or ordinariness, is starting to wonder if there is some kind of ‘NO plain clothes or hair cuts’ door policy, and if it was the vegemite stains on her dress that saw her slip past it, when Producer Boy coughs to signal that the meeting should start….


Producer Boy (positioned in front of the white board):

I think we should get started. I’ve chosen a special topic for the next show, “Home, House and Holden”

He scrawls this up on the board then looks around the room as if expecting no one to guess the immediate link here, he smiles knowingly and elaborates:

This is taken from a famous Menzies speech back in the day where he captures what he believes to represent the ‘quintessential Australian Dream’; that all Australians wish to own a home, a holiday house, and a Holden car. I think we can do a great contemporary take on this, starting with a story about a Filipino Housing Coop living in harmony with chickens and organic vegetables, that operates out in….

He pauses, screws his face in concentration, then continues finally recalls the name of the non-inner city suburb and says it slowly, like people are deaf, or have trouble understanding English words not pertinent to city centric lives

Auuuuburn. That’s it. They have recreated an Asian type village out there, and it would be fabulous to look into that.

He scrawl this suggestion up on the board

Ok. Other ideas?


Hipster One:

A have a friend who lives in his car and rents out a six room inner city warehouse he owns. So he is, like, homeless, but also, like, a landlord. I think that would be really interesting to look into (laughs) like how he just lives in his car by the beach surfing all day!

Small laughter erupts around the room

HI (continues): Yeah. So he is like totally homeless, which would just be a really interesting take on the whole, outdated, ‘own your own home’ thing.

A few murmurs go around the room


Hipster Five:

What about another homeless person story. Like someone living on the street. Does anyone know any real homeless people?


Hipster Four:

I might know someone who saw someone talk to someone on the street once


Producer Boy:

That sounds great, chase that up. Can you chase that up? What’s your name again?


Hipster Two:

Oh, there is this man I know of, he is a costume designer, and he lives in this, artist coop. He would be great. He is so wild. Like, oh my god, I have never seen anyone like this man. Wait. Check him out. I have a photo

(reaches into his bag and roots around for his digital camera, then holds it up for the room. No one can see the tiny image on the screen, but this does not dampen his enthusiasm)

He is just The. Craziest. Thing. I. Have. Ever. Seen.

Looks up beaming


Producer Boy:

Ok. Go for it. He sounds amazing. I love it. I love this man. Who is he?


Hipster Two:

His name is Zio.


Producer Boy:

Zio. That’s fantastic. I love this. You have to do this.


The Talent:

What about a story of someone who actually has a home and and house and a holden?


The room goes silent. Everyone is stumped by this suggestion


Contributor Chick:

I can talk to my contacts at the ABC, they might know of someone ordinary


The Talent:

Oh, and maybe a refugee family story, like, what is their take on what the “Australian dream is”?


Producer Boy

Oh Yes. Absolutely.


Hipster Two:

I think it is fair to say that the Australian Dream is really just a postulating reconstruction of the ever failing American Dream both being driven by larger economic imperatives and national aspirations that greater reflect increasingly outdated ideologies


A few people agree ‘yes’ and ‘totally’ while others stay firmly silent

Producer Boy has been busy scrawling all the suggestions on the board. He stands back to assess them.


Producer Boy:

Ok well lets take a look at this (scanning down). Great, great, it is looking great. Um, hang on, what’s this one, the ‘someone who actually has a ‘home, house and Holden’ – where is the ‘quirky’ take on that?! I’m not sure that’s going to work….

Oh but, the Refugee family, now that’s important. It’s really important that we tell that story.

Murmurs of accent roll around the room, with many people nodding meaningfully in agreement


The meeting continues in much the same fashion for another hour or so until Producer Boy wraps things up by declaring that they should all ‘pedal to the pub’. RTS slips quietly away, gets back in her car, and drives home, feeling ever so slightly judgemental….







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