D’Australie Avec Amour: Attrapé dans l’acte.

In by Quiet Lunch4 Comments

I work 5 to 6 days a week, between 50 and 60 hours. I’m crazy, but I love money. Australia is not the most expensive place to visit in the world, but for a girl who lives in Montréal, the rent is FUCKING EXPENSIVE. You guys in New-York are used to it. 870$ per month just for my room? I swear to God, after finding out that it wasn’t a joke, I almost had and heart attack. $870 in Montréal is the price of a really nice 2 bedrooms– REALLLY NICE–that you SHARE with another roommate, or flatmate, as the Aussies would say.

So, that’s why I’m working all the time…and because I love to live like Céline Dion. But so far so good, for the first time in my life I’m truly focus. I know what I want and it’s working pretty well for me. I’m saving, so the only money that I spend is on coffee–especially since Melbourne is a coffee city. So many little cafés, all with their own unique and friendly atmospheres. None of that Starbucks oversaturation. Thanks goodness.

Nonetheless, it’s a big change from Montréal where I was spending most of my money on Jameson shots–and my butt likes it. The less alcohol I drink, tinier the mama looks. 🙂

In a city like Melbourne, you don’t want to be fat. People are thin (well most of them) and extremely stylish. Everyday is a trip down the runway. High heels, dresses, purses, nice jewellery, hat, nice everything. I don’t need to buy any magazines nowadays, I’m already heavily inspired by all the looks I see while in town. Another thing, people are not afraid to try… well, some of them should be, but I give them a 9 out of 10 for their “creativity”.

Ya, so I spend my days off , roaming café to café, travelling on my bike avoiding the tram since I got cut. Yes, cut. Here the story:

Most of people travel on the tram. It’s pretty easy, you buy a Myki (magnetic card) and you do as the slogan says, Touch Up! (scan your card when you get in the tram) It’s $3.50 for 2 hours or 7 $ per day. DO the math, I’m working 5 to 6 days, so it will cost me between $35 to $42 a week to get to work.

Courtesy of Wikimedia.

Courtesy of Wikimedia.

But here is the thing, nobody checks to see if you touched or not. Unlike Montréal and New York City, where you have to get X-rayed to get through, you can simply walk into the tram through the front or the middle doors, and that’s it. If you are an honest person, you touch up every time and you are sure to avoid get cut and pay a $207 fine.

On the other hand, if you are a Robin Hoodesque cowboy like me and my friend Tiny Monster, you can decide to not pay and travel for free, saving up to $160 per month. Sounds great, right?

So I was on my way to see my doctor, and I saw those “bad men” on the platform. OH NO! A ticket guard! I needed a plan. It nearly happened to me once before. I saw them through the window and I just jumped out of the tram at the station, leaving them no time to ask for my myki. I tried to make another great escape, but this time the bad guy was too quick. I felt a hand on my arm:

 “‘Scuse me, lady. Can I see your myki?”

Goddamn… and it’s so embarrassing because everybody is looking at you. I say, yes! With the biggest smile and using the worst English accent ever. I decided that I would play the “confused tourist”; a tourist girl who knows not a soul in this strange city and who lost her wallet on the damn tram. As I opened my bag to find my wallet, I shoved it deep into the bottom of my bag, so I can pretend that my wallet was missing.

“OMGGG OMGG ! I can’t find my wallet. I had it on the tram when I TOUCH my MYKI…”

So not true. I should win an Oscar for that performance. I started shaking and throwing everything out of my bag, except my wallet. Even the bad guy had a look in my bag and didn’t spot the wallet. Lucky me. Once he started asking me for my information, I gave him a wrong date of birth and pretended to not have a cell phone. I was crossing my fingers that my doctor didn’t call, especially since I was already late to my appointment. 15 minutes later, he tells me:

“I have to call the police because to have no identity.”

So I pushed the act even further:

“SIR! (still shaking) I woulddddd love to show you my stuff, but my wallet is in the tram with my PASSPORT.. Can you imagine how I feel now? I’m lost in a city and I know nobody. I don’t know what to do. Ahhhhhhh!!!!”

He looked at me and I could read in his eyes: “I HATE MY JOB and you’re driving me crazy.” So the bad man says:

“Lady take your bag and go NOW!”

Thanks lord. I ran. This performance was so exhausting. 5 minutes later, I call my friend Yossi.

Written by Anik Boucher.↓

Anik Boucher (n.): jetsetter, French spitfire. (Courtesy of Sébastien Lamothe.)

Anik Boucher (n.): jetsetter, French spitfire. (Courtesy of Sébastien Lamothe.)


  1. Quand j’étais là on donnait un nom de joueur de hockey (ou de soccer pour mes colocs irlandais) et on mettait notre amende sur le “Wall of Fines”… Sorted!

Leave a Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.