Somewhere in Niddrie, mid-walk, I stop for a drink from a gelati shop.
An old guy and a younger guy (maybe father and son, or uncle and nephew)
are listening to the Bathurst car race as they wait for customers.
As I leave, they stand in the doorway, looking at the red Ferrari parked nearby.
The younger one starts to say “so, if you can lend me a thousand dollars…”,
and I can picture his awkwardness, even though I’m moving on without looking
back.