bigZLiLk Does Canberra

Ladies and Gentlemen

Boys and girls

Introducing to you

The guest writer

Will you all put your hands together and welcome into the circus tent

bigZLiLk

Ok that’s enough

bigZLiLk is a good friend of mine who like myself enjoys the darker more seedy side of life but still holds down a respectful job and has everyone fooled

Some say he has no age and his favourite food is raw meat.

Sunsets only piss him off and the dark is afraid of bigZLiLk

He had previously shown some interest in writing so I said “why not post something on my blog”

So what you have below is his first post.

Now I know bigZLiLk and by his standards this is a very tame post, a little tickler to start off you might say.

I’m sure in time the bigZLiLk will open up and reveal to you his black seeping heart.

But until then here’s a little tale to wet your whistle.


bigZLiLk Does Canberra

This story is about my first weekend in Canberra, the suburb in the middle of nowhere mascerading as this countries capital, when I was sent there for work, who put me up in a hotel.

My hair was getting a bit long, so I thought i would cut it, as i do. I didn't want to cut my hair in the hotel, because there's no vacuum cleaner and I didn't want to bother the maids. I don't carry scissors with me anymore, because I always put them in my carry-on luggage and inevitably they get taken from me at Airport Security, so i had to go and buy some from the supermarket. I've always used paper cutting scissors, preferably the old stainless steel ones. They used to be easy to find at a supermarket or newsagency and encourage the mottled appearance natural to the way i cut my hair. Having acquired some scissors, i found a spot across from the hotel on some lush green grass next to a public fireplace where i might stand and cut my hair. I placed my trimmer and pocket mirror on a table next to the coin fireplace and was finished with the front and sides when i was interrupted by a phone call. It was then that two policeman approached.

Now, the hotel i was staying at is down a short one way street, it was early on a saturday morning and as i watched the two young male policemen approach i could see their shiny modern panel van parked in the hotel entrance behind them. i was sitting on the park bench engaged in my phone conversation. They paused before me, one taking the lead, the other standing behind me. I took the phone from my ear and enquired, "am i not allowed to be here?" and the officer replied "it's ok, finish your call." I went back to my conversation, and the officer picked up the scissors from the table and placed them on the ground behind me. Interested to discover what the problem was, i promptly finished the call.

"Is there any reason you are out here cutting your hair?" the officer, having noticed the scissors, with the trimmer and mirror still placed before me, correctly surmised."Erm, i needed a haircut so i went and bought some scissors and here i am cutting my hair," i innocently replied."Yes, but why are you cutting your own hair, here?" he enquired again."Umm, it's what i do. Every three weeks my hair requires cutting, so i cut it! I could hardly cut it in the hotel room, there would have been hair everywhere," i responded dryly.

A bit bewildered, the officer enquired if i had any ID with me, and i handed him the only photo ID i possess, an outdated and expired Learner Driver's License with an incorrect address. I explained where i lived and answered his questions regarding the purpose of my visit to Canberra while he took down my identification details. Obviously wanting to confirm my sincerity, the lead officer left to check my story with the Hotel reception staff. The remaining officer then went about trying to solve what he obviously thought was the complex riddle of my haircutting prowess!

Apparently he found it hard to believe that anyone who cuts their own hair could work in Canberra, so his initial question were regarding what i did with the company. I explained i was here to test system changes they planned to implement and deflected his suspicion that four weeks was a long time to test for such a thing. Satisfied that this line of questioning was making no headway, he stood flumoxed, providing me the opportunity to ask him some questions!

"Haven't you ever seen or heard of anyone cutting their own hair?" i asked."No i haven't to be honest with you."

Now it was my turn to be dumbstruck. Canberra really is a conventional little town, i thought! Both of my parents cut their own hair, as has my sister, when i'm not cutting it for her. Several of my friends cut their own hair too. Trying not to be too tickled with amusement at my situation, i again engaged this officer in conversation. I asked him about the kangaroos that graze in the fields beside the hotel, but again he turned the conversation back to my hair!

"I'll admit i'm not the most conventional person..," i started to say, before being interupted."There's nothing wrong with that."

Now this last comment struck me down with a severe case of de ja vu. Being an unconventional person, this is not the first time i've had this conversations with the police. I've had the opportunity to make this admission to an officer of the law on several occasions, and on each of them the officer has interupted and replied with exactly the same response, word for word with the same demeaner. It's comforting to know our police force is so well trained, even if he didn't really believe what he was saying!

At this point the other officer returned from the hotel. Satisfied of my authenticity and seeing little reason to pursue the matter any further he picked up the scissors and returned them to my possession.

"Have a nice day," i offered."Enjoy the rest of your stay in Canberra.""This is the most exciting thing that's happened to me so far," i laughed."Tells you something about Canberra, doesn't it?" he grinned.

That cutting your own hair is a suspicious activity, and if the police are called they'll rush to the scene of the crime, i thought to myself!

But that's not the end of the story. On Monday, the whole office was in hysterics and I kept having to re-tell the story, so I wrote the above up in a little email and sent it around. A lady from another section approached me and asked, "What time on Saturday morning was this?" I mentioned it was about 10:30am and she said,

"I called the police at just after 10:30am on Saturday morning because my neighbours fence was being destroyed by a bunch of young kids, and they told me that I would have to deal with it myself because they were already occupied!

"Consider yourselves warned.