One week in Melbourne I generally hate with a passion is the spring carnival. The entire week leading up to the Melbourne cup. Everyday the entire public transport system is totally clogged up with drunken jerks in rented suits going to the races. As a regular commuter it just pissed me off that these guys get away with action like arseholes just cause they have suits on, but then this year I've been having different thoughts about the event.
It's around 25 degrees outside of the train even though it's ten at night. The race crowd are drunk and rowdy, but rather than get angry at the men's behaviour, I've decided to just enjoy the scenery the women present. Summer is just a few weeks away and all the girls have extremely low cut tops or fancy dresses so short they have to hold a racing guide to hide their knickers when they sit down. Sitting directly opposite me in the cramped seats is an attractive blonde girl; she's had way too much to drink and keeps falling asleep with the jerking head motions of a weary commuter. Her bright hair is short and jaggered, it looks professionally done for the day, and she has a loose dress of thin βsummery' material that shows a deep v of great cleavage.