So there I was, sauntering through in awe of this vibrant and vigorous cosmopolitan. An amalgamation of artistic design and non-native cultural influence, my new home…  

Just passing the corner of Pitt and King St, I was surrounded by the high reaching concrete, steel and glass arrangements of corporate institutions coercing visitors with their beauty and dominance across the skyline.

I felt the hustle of the city pulsing around me as I waded through the crowds of desk jockeys, office subordinates and the coporate elite and their personal assistants who, in their best efforts were trying not to spill the daily order of the extra-large, extra-dirty, double mocha Chai Lattes with a dash of cinnamon and SKIMMED MILK, all the while expertly balancing the four-pack of Americano Venties from Starbucks, still steaming hot, for their insolent colleagues who couldn’t care less.

I empathised with them but also felt somewhat jealous of their assiduousness, their diligence in carrying out the most mundane of assignments as they fight tooth and nail – freshly painted of course with the newest range of $180 Chanel Praline nail polish – for their space on the first rung of the corporate ladder. To maintain my objectivity I should also point out that the men were equally as flustered, also fighting tooth and nail and [at a guess] in some cases also donning the Estee Lauder anti-aging bronzer to impress their all-seeing and ‘attentive to every detail’ managers who are solely responsible for providing them access to rung number two.

As I broke free of the masses, while conversing about Mardi Gras and the goings on of Australian beach parties, I was startled by an incredible and abrupt rumble and growl followed by a high pitched screech. It is winter now so maybe there’s a storm brewing. Thunder and lightning caused by cumulonimbus building up over the east coast perhaps? Not quite. A warm fresh breeze and blue skies sat calmly above the city.

All within a matter of seconds, still lingering on the last words of my conversation about bra-less beach babes and beer bongs in Bondi – a second, louder roar erupted just beside me. This was no storm – It was the seductive growl of the 8-cylinder, 4.2 litre and 420HP engine of a brand new Audi R8 driven [of course] by a fifty something year old executive with a blonde twenty something in the passenger seat.

Simultaneously, on the same street coming in the opposite direction, side-by-side with the Audi was the source of the high pitched screech I had just previously heard. A pink... yes! BRIGHT.PINK.STRETCH.HUMMER was sailing slowly by and out of the window leaned a tall, slim, blonde female while her friend stood waist high out of the sunroof; both looking at ME!

I could still smell the rubber melting on the tarmac from the Audi accelerating past. As I looked through the smoke I couldn’t help but smile as the women lifted their blouse, bared their breasts and shook them rather excitedly and rapidly and long enough that they actually began moving in a perfect circular motion… almost hypnotic to some of the male by-standers caught in the visual cross-fire!

It all happened in a sort of time warped, slow motion scene. All of my senses were working independently of each other. The smell of the rubber, the taste of the smokey air, the feel of the city and people brushing past me and the sight and sounds that emanated from all around me - a moment of pure bliss.

The girls shouted at the top of their lungs, ‘We love Sydney!’. As they fell back, laughing and giggling into the Hummer, I thought to myself…

I've arrived...

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