Brekky at The Banff
This morning I had brekky at The Banff around the corner on Fitzroy Street and enjoyed my favourite pesto and cream cheese bagel along with a cappuccino that I get from time to time. I like this place not just because of it’s $8 Jug of beer happy hours and the fact that everything is made of wood and it has a fireplace, but because they give you a mountain of cream cheese. A mountain! I want to get little figurines of mountaineers from a model shop and put them onto it next time and take a picture. Maybe put a flag on the top in conquest. I never eat it all, but today I gave it a go. I accidentally elbowed one of the servers in the boob. Awkward? One thing I don’t like about this place though and most places you will find in Australia is you have to get your own cutlery. (Knife, fork, and napkin to you Yanks) You also never know if you have to pay when you order, ask for the bill, or go to the counter after the meal and pay. It is completely inconsistent and just when you think you are getting the hang of it the next place throws you off. It’s been 6 months now and I still look the fool sometimes. (okay, all the time) You don’t have to tip in Australia though so that is a bonus. I once tried to give a guy a dollar and he slid it back to me. That’s rare though.
I walked into work so that I could type you all this amazing story and a halfway homeless woman that lurks by my place of business came up to me and said, “Hey handsome, can you spare a few dollars so I can get a can of beer?” I gave her a buck twenty for the compliment and she looked steadily at me and said, “I have a new found respect for you” and moved on. She’s crazier than a sack of monkeys of course, but it was my good deed for the day so I can move on to my bad one, which is probably going to be posting on this blog again. She will often sit on the wall during lunch time and ask all the suits that walk by for money, if they don’t she curses at them. It’s mildly amusing when its not you, which it sometimes is. That’s life for you.
