seeing red

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