It’s so ridiculous being poor, literally! Like, no one listens to you. There’s this rich guy called Trenton J. Rhys-King. His parents like, own a salvage company that found a super-old Portuguese boat that sunk like, ages ago. Well, the city tried to put a highway like right next to their mansion, so Trenton’s dad just gave like, the chief councillor or something a bottle of wine from the sunken boat and the highway never got built. It’s so unfair!
I just try to make a simple request of like, my council representative or whatever, and all I get is laughed at. Like it wasn’t enough that the sky is cloudy, the volunteer fire fighters have decided that today’s the day they’re going to smoke up my view of the mountains by burning the dead trees in the forest or whatever. How can I have a backyard pool party with a cloudy sky, a ruined view and everyone like, suffocating from smoke?
I got our butler to call the chief-state-fire-guy, but he wasn’t like, pushy enough, so I called up myself. The chief fire commissioner’s like “safety this” and “safety that” and “you’ve got to understand…” I hate it when they talk down to me like that. He’s like “we’ve got to protect the community by reducing the fuel load” or something. I’m like “dude, it’s just ONE party. Can’t you just wait till tomorrow?” He was like “no.”
I called him like, something you wouldn’t say in front of your grandma and hung up before he could respond. Nothing’s going to stop this party. Especially since Trenton will be here. Maybe I’ll just play a movie for everyone in one of the home theatres.
Meanwhile, the smoke fills the bush. The hazard reduction burning has started a week early this year. Dane rolls up his sleeping mat and packs his tent. It’s his first time off work in two years, and he didn’t dare to spend two weeks with his room-mates’ newborn. Without the funds to go away, he just hiked out into the bush to pass the time reading novels and lamenting over his useless degree and failed marriage.
Dane talked to the fire fighters as he passed the front. “Did we smoke you out mate? Sorry about that.” “No problem. Could you spare some drinking water though?” The man driving the truck threw a plastic bottle to Dane. “We’re heading up the western gully tonight. Just stay on this side of the ridge and you should be right.”
“Cheers mate. No sweat.” Replied Dane. He walked down into the valley and into the scrub.
“This is the life!”