<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437</id><updated>2012-01-09T02:39:54.501+10:30</updated><title type='text'>MARK TRENWITH ASKS "CAN I GET YOU A COFFEE?"</title><subtitle type='html'>A DIARY OF WHAT RESULTS IN ASKING COMPLETE STRANGERS “CAN I GET YOU A COFFEE?”
Buying strangers coffee! Is this strange? Maybe. But I’m  strange &amp; that’s what strange people do. 
Here meet the people I’ve met &amp; read the trials and tribulations of meeting them. Then my new friends can be your new friends &amp; then we'll live together on a pirate ship that has waterslides with water proof speakers that play pop tunes. So it’s not strange at all really when you look at it this way.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-1831104742288922846</id><published>2007-12-20T19:34:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2007-12-20T20:40:33.930+10:30</updated><title type='text'>THE STORY SO FAR..</title><content type='html'>Hello, how are you? Good? Good.&lt;br /&gt;If you've never read this blog before then I feel like I've got some "s'plainin' to do!"&lt;br /&gt;(read the last three words in a Ricky Ricardo voice from 'I Love Lucy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last year I began approaching people randomly and offering to shout them a coffee in exchange for a light hearted chat. All the adventures I had and people I met can be found in the previous blogs.&lt;br /&gt;From this spring boarded an entire campaign to be more friendly!!&lt;br /&gt;Yeah! I was determined to be more friendly! So how was I going to do that exactly??! What does one do to be more friendly. Well, I decided to send a letter to someone I'd never met before! Friendly thing to do....a bit psychotic...but you never know it could be the start of something beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;It was a lovely polite letter and also included a recipe and some FREE stickers! I know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the chances of someone writing back to some nut bag they'd never heard of before wasn't really very good I thought. So I didn't just send one letter-recipe-sticker combo. I sent out 50!&lt;br /&gt;But who would I choose to send them to? Who would be friendly enough to write back? Well that was easy! I chose everyone in the phone book with the last name.... "FRIEND!"&lt;br /&gt;I swear to GOD this is all true.&lt;br /&gt;When I ran of 'FRIENDS" I went on to people with the last names, MATE...BUDDY..PAL ..NICE.. AMICO..SMILEY..SMILES.. even SMIRK! and..BOTTOM. Because I'm immature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I posted my letters off with friendly glee and two weeks later I got my first response!&lt;br /&gt;It was a call from the police. Just a routine call from 'Office McCollough' from the Norwood Police Station wanting to know why I'd sent some old lady some bananas in pyjamas stickers.&lt;br /&gt;She must have taken a banana in a pyjama the wrong way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly this was the only response I got.&lt;br /&gt;But on the flip-side I was getting an almost unanimously positive reaction with buying strangers coffees. You wouldn't believe it would you- but it seems there are a lot of positive people out there who have faith that their fellow man will buy them a coffee and not want anything else.&lt;br /&gt;I stopped buying people coffee for strangers in about February 07 for reasons I'm about to disclose! I know, you heard it first here. Even before 'Entertainment Tonight!'&lt;br /&gt;But before that I'm sure your wondering what's happened to some of those strangers since I initially met them?&lt;br /&gt;Well, Stranger Michelle I have continued to see on public transport. And on the odd occasion I've seen her miss public transport. She can't run very fast.&lt;br /&gt;Stranger Paul and I often catch movies and see the odd band together when he's not away on fishing trips. We keep talking about a camping trip, but I've only just seen "Wolf Creek," so I'm going to have to put that off for a while.&lt;br /&gt;Then there's Morgan. That's an interesting one. Morgan was very enthusiastic about my project so invited me to as many events and social gatherings as I could attend. In turn I was equally as enthusiastic about accepting them! Here was the guy I was looking for! Someone who understood what my project was about and was willing to up it a step! That was until I met a friend of his called Aaron.&lt;br /&gt;Our conversation went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, your this 'Let me buy you a coffee guy' Morgan's been telling me about."&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah!! It's great!Morgan's invited me to heaps of stuff"&lt;br /&gt;"Right.. does this mean Morgan's still an experiment?"&lt;br /&gt;Ooooooh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt like I'd been kicked in the nuts and the chest at the same time. He was right! Morgan was an experiment and I couldn't help but feel ashamed and guilty for abusing Morgan's good will and friendship like that. I felt so bad about it that I decided to stop buying people coffee and stop hanging out with Morgan.&lt;br /&gt;Even worse, I realised that despite being outwardly friendly and spontaneous, I was still the same old temperamental, highly strung slightly selfish Mark.&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to be friendly in a different way. Rather than being wacky and obscure I decided to be a better, kinder friend to the people already in my life. And that included Morgan, who I'm proud to say has become quite a good friend and whose wife Erin makes a brilliant lasagna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So is this is the end of the blog I hear you ask? Well, I have another social experiment planned and this will be my outlet to tell you about it! Until then, Merry Christmas and I hope to see you at my fringe show in 2008 called 'Danger.' Feb 22- Mar 15. 7pm Electric Light Hotel. It's all about what happened to me after I almost had the crap beaten out of me by some drunk guys. I was drunk too of course. But it was their fault! GODDAMIT! Oh great now look what you've done I'm all wound up now! I'm need to have a sit down now, so you'll just have to see the show to find out what happened!&lt;br /&gt;MERRY XMAS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-1831104742288922846?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/1831104742288922846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=1831104742288922846' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/1831104742288922846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/1831104742288922846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2007/12/story-so-far.html' title='THE STORY SO FAR..'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-6834680299663002824</id><published>2007-02-16T10:52:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2007-02-16T10:59:07.180+10:30</updated><title type='text'>FRINGE BREAK</title><content type='html'>Hello friends and strangers alike.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be taking a break from meeting strangers to concentrate on my fringe show.&lt;br /&gt;It's called 'Be My Friend' and will be playing at the Belgian Beer Cafe from Mar 14-31 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;wednesday&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;sunday&lt;/span&gt;.  Tickets are $17/13 with cheap $11 ticket nights on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;wednesday&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;thursday&lt;/span&gt; nights!!&lt;br /&gt;The show is going to be feast for the sense with lots of multimedia, sound effects, men in nappies and time travel! For more info check &lt;a href="http://www.marktrenwith.com/"&gt;www.marktrenwith.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or &lt;a href="http://www.adelaidefringe.com.au/"&gt;www.adelaidefringe.com.au&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have not finished with getting strangers coffee! I vow I shall return to this quest as soon as possible! Your friend and ally..&lt;br /&gt;Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Trenwith&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-6834680299663002824?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/6834680299663002824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=6834680299663002824' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/6834680299663002824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/6834680299663002824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2007/02/fringe-break.html' title='FRINGE BREAK'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-7952195999918404384</id><published>2007-01-29T17:20:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2007-01-29T18:17:46.750+10:30</updated><title type='text'>No.7 PAUL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_taiK7c8Qjcc/Rb2fKceMYgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/F0-VdHolhm0/s1600-h/HPIM0277.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025347761005683202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 261px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 181px" height="214" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_taiK7c8Qjcc/Rb2fKceMYgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/F0-VdHolhm0/s320/HPIM0277.jpg" width="296" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last week I found this T-shirt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In a shop I mean. Not on the ground or on someone’s washing line. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was trying to meet strangers and here was a T-shirt that said ‘World Without Strangers.’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;At first it upset me deeply!! I didn’t want a ‘World Without Strangers!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;How could I do this project if there were no freakin’ strangers for me to have freakin coffee with!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"World Without Strangers?" Bah! Someone was obviously trying to ruin my life and happiness by trying to create peace and love on Earth. I would have to find them and kill them. It was the only way I’d be content. I felt like a crusader! I was like Skeletor fighting the evil forces of He-man!&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahahahaaaaaaa!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was after that maniacal gay laugh that I realised I was completely crazy.&lt;br /&gt;I was no Skeletor. I did want peace and harmony and all those nice things. I was He-man!! Actually considering my scrawny physique I was more like "World Vision Boy."&lt;br /&gt;But though my body wasn’t as big as Heman's, my heart sure was!&lt;br /&gt;So I embraced the "World Without Strangers" shirt and came to a realisation that my project was really an ambassador for this way of thinking. I realised that by buying strangers coffee I WAS making a "World Without Strangers."&lt;br /&gt;I was actively taking a stand in the sort world I wanted to live in. Suddenly I felt this whole project had purpose now.&lt;br /&gt;Before it felt weird. It was still weird, but now I felt like I had a greater picture. I couldn’t wait to approach my next stranger. And you wouldn’t believe it.. it was far easier than you could imagine. Because rather than approaching them…my next stranger approached me! Brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was in Hudsons Coffee and had just sat down in one of the comfy chairs.&lt;br /&gt;I was very happy with myself at scoring a comfy chair and a young tall man also sitting in a comfy chair smiled politely obviously congratulating us both on our wise choice of chairs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned on my laptop to do some work when the man interrupted saying he’d seen me perform my comedy act. I dug this! I think it’s a real positive thing to acknowledge a stranger you know or know something about! Why not? You’re bound to get a favorable response.&lt;br /&gt;Unless of course your acknowledgement is based on something like "I’ve been stalking you and have seen you naked." Or "I’ve kidnapped all of your children."&lt;br /&gt;Or "I’m your brother," when they already know you are their brother as they see you every second day thus making the acknowledgement quite redundant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It turned out the man, whose name was Paul, was up for a bit of a chat. We got into a lengthy discussion about comedy and apprenticeships and travelling and older women and my anger over how the song ‘Sarah’ by ‘Eskimo Joe’ sounds annoyingly similar to the theme song from ‘Never Ending Story!’&lt;br /&gt;It dawned on me Paul would be a great candidate for ‘Can I Get You A Coffee.’&lt;br /&gt;But I liked the randomness of the conversation without it having to be apart of the project and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be up for it.&lt;br /&gt;So I decided to leave it.&lt;br /&gt;But then I noticed he had a book called "How to Make Friends and Influence People," which he said he was reading because he wanted to broaden his social network.&lt;br /&gt;What was I thinking? Of course I had to ask him! Who more perfect than a guy who actually wanted to meet new people!? It was as if there was a giant NEON sign with the words "MARK TRENWITH’s SOMEWHAT WEIRD PROJECTS AND IDEAS WELCOME HERE!" pointing to his head.&lt;br /&gt;So I introduced him to the world of "Can I Get You A Coffee."&lt;br /&gt;So how did he respond???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Here’s the PAUL fact file! THAT’S HOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;AGE: 26&lt;br /&gt;STATUS: Seeing Someone.&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE SONG: JJJ music&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE FILM: Departed/Bad Boy Bubby&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE BOOK: The Hobbit&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE YEAR OF LIFE: 1999. WHY: Because it’s a Prince Song.&lt;br /&gt;No not really. Because it was his first year out of high school and it provided him with a feeling of independence and grownupness.&lt;br /&gt;(Disclaimer: ‘grownupness’ most likely not a word.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;GOAL FOR NEXT 12 MONTHS: To develop a bigger group of social friends and complete the next level of his apprenticeship as an electrician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I realised I was actually helping Paul achieve his goal!! Some of you must be wondering if I had suddenly made plans to go off and complete an electricians apprenticeship, start my own business and then employ Paul. No. Way to easy.&lt;br /&gt;No I’m talking about the other goal. Just by interacting right then and there I was actually expanding Paul’s social group. I felt proud! Then I realised it was he who had approached me. All I did was sit down. He was achieving his own goal there.&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I’ll be doing that apprenticeship after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT EXCITES PAUL IS: Fishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I’d never considered fishing to be exciting. Mm. Obviously Paul knows something I don’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT PISSES PAUL OFF IS: His ex-girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A BELIEF PAUL WOULD INSTILL IN PEOPLE IF HE HAD THE POWER OF BRAINWASHING IS: To cease worshiping money so much. It is the route of all evil to Paul.&lt;br /&gt;I disagreed. I thought Skeletor was a far more evil adversary. I’d never seen a bunch of 5 cent pieces try to defeat He-man. But I decided not to press the issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;OTHER THINGS YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT PAUL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Paul doesn’t find a Tyranosaurus Rex who lives on Jupiter but wants to kill you as threatening as a mosquito who lives on Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Paul was in the Army&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Paul was in Amway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I realised both these institutions sounded quite similar. I wondered if the reason he was no longer apart of either was because one day he got the two mixed up and tried to attack some Turkish soldiers with some cleaning products and lunchboxes. Or worse knocked on some old ladies door and then accidentally shot her with a rifle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;*Paul used to work at the same place as my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;(Most probably the reason he quit.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was really happy with this interaction despite the fact it wasn’t the conventional way I came across my strangers! And then later that night I was overjoyed to find he had emailed me! I thought he was supposed to be out at dinner with his girlfriend??&lt;br /&gt;I liked to think that he had stood her up to email me. Or better, that they were still on the date and that sending me an email was making them somewhat more aroused.&lt;br /&gt;Paul had emailed with an answer to a profile question he’d forgotten to tell me! I thought that was fantastic! Paul had just gone from great to brilliant in my eyes! He also said he’d looked at my site and asked me if I wanted a beer!&lt;br /&gt;Of course I bloody wanted a beer! I love beer!&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited that my giant Pumba doll fell off my desk and knocked wine all over my computer!&lt;br /&gt;Shit! I was going to be screwed! So I tried to drain my computer by holding it upside down, letting the wine spill out!!&lt;br /&gt;Then the space bar stopped working!! Shit! Crap! Balls! Luckily it’s fine now which I guess is obvious or you wouldn’t be reading this. And now I get a little bit drunk every time I use my computer thanks to the aroma of wine that gets released every time I tap on the keys. So I better end this entry here before I come on to you, say something rude about your mother or jump on the table and start dancing to Bon Jovi with my pants down. I'll leave you with that vision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;Mark and Paul. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-7952195999918404384?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/7952195999918404384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=7952195999918404384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/7952195999918404384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/7952195999918404384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2007/01/no7-paul.html' title='No.7 PAUL'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_taiK7c8Qjcc/Rb2fKceMYgI/AAAAAAAAAAk/F0-VdHolhm0/s72-c/HPIM0277.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-7108128645000987255</id><published>2007-01-21T16:20:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2007-01-21T16:25:34.522+10:30</updated><title type='text'>No. 6 ANDREW</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hello and welcome to my latest entry. Lovely day isn’t it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week my search for strangers lead me to Westfield Marion.&lt;br /&gt;It was my first outing since just before Christmas when I had a disastrous time being rejected by 5 people in a row including a guy who thought I was some psycho trying to drug him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I felt like Rocky returning to the ring to fight after receiving a serious pounding.&lt;br /&gt;But this was far worse because I wasn’t wearing a mouth-guard for protection.&lt;br /&gt;As I paced the mall over and over I began to feel ill. I’d peer into cafes but just couldn’t bring myself to approach anyone. It was too hard. My metaphorical Rocky scars and bruises burned furiously every time I went near anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So I just gave up. I was knocked out without even trying! I got a coffee at Hudsons by myself and did a bit of work on my laptop.&lt;br /&gt;Minutes later a stocky bald man wearing a TinTin t-shirt sat down behind me and began to read. A book. (Sorry thought I’d better clear that up.)&lt;br /&gt;I thought seriously about approaching him. But no! I’d already given up! I was finished! Down for the count!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Twenty minutes went by and I just couldn’t concentrate. I kept looking back to see what he was doing. Mostly he would swap positions or undo then reapply the velcro straps on his sandals. He did this about six times.&lt;br /&gt;I became painfully aware that counting how many times a complete stranger adjusts his sandals was a pretty weird thing to be doing.&lt;br /&gt;I was kidding myself I had to approach him. NO! I couldn’t! I’d thrown in the towel! Game over! Besides half an hour had past he’d be going soon anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Then I watched him undo his sandal again. That was 7 now.&lt;br /&gt;This was ridiculous! I had to get out of here. But wait! This time he didn’t redo the strap! He took his whole sandal off! He was definitely NOT going soon! He was just getting comfortable! I had no more excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I sighed heavily. Suddenly I got a message from No.5 Morgan asking if I’d like to catch up again! Would I?? Of course I bloody would! The message brought an instant smile to my face! Suddenly I was reinvigorated! It was like Morgan was Mickey the trainer, pumping me up and telling me to get back out there and fight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So up I jumped! I threw off my robe and I thrust my fist right into the mans face! His entire jaw cracked and filled with blood as my hard knuckles knocked him out cold! Success! I was a hero again!&lt;br /&gt;Of course this is just a metaphor for me politely asking the man if he’d like a coffee and him immediately offering me a seat! Before I’d even finished asking in fact!&lt;br /&gt;Andrew must have been in a meeting strangers mood as he’d just had lunch in town with another stranger who he’d met over the internet in an ‘I-river’ chat room.&lt;br /&gt;Andrew wasn’t actually ‘really’ from Adelaide.&lt;br /&gt;When I asked him where he was ‘really’ from he answered with ‘everywhere.’&lt;br /&gt;Right. This hadn’t narrowed things down much.&lt;br /&gt;He’d just come from Hobart where he was teaching English and was in Adelaide to spend Christmas with his mother before jetting off to Korea to teach more English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Andrew traveled a lot, in fact when he was 19 he spent 18 months hitchhiking around Australia! Wow! I would’ve given up after a day! But to stand out there for 18 months! That’s passionate that is!&lt;br /&gt;Andrew quickly told me he’d actually taken several rides over that 18 month period and that in reality if it takes you more than half an hour to get a ride you’re doing something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;So I asked him what the right things to do were.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the ultimate hitchhiker should never wear sunglasses, hitch with the index finger as opposed to the thumb, look the driver straight in the eye, own a dog and wear the right clothes. He didn’t explain further about the ‘right clothes’ but I imagine a pair of jeans and T-shirt was more favorable say than a leotard with holes for the arse to hang out or a tshirt with the words "I Kill People with my Fist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Here’s the ANDREW fact file.&lt;br /&gt;AGE: 42&lt;br /&gt;STATUS: Single&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE SONG: Pirate Jenny by Nina Simone&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE FILM: Kenneth Branagh's Henry the 5th&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE BOOK: Sidd Hartha by Herman Hesse&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE YEAR OF LIFE: This year. Because he doesn’t know what will happen next whereas every other year has already happened so are just memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;GOAL FOR NEXT 12 MONTHS: To be a good English as a Second Language teacher. Being good at what he does is very important to Andrew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT EXCITES ANDREW IS: Not knowing the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT PISSES ANDREW OFF IS: Spruikers in Rundle Mall. Particularly the guy at Woolworths. In fact when the spruikers aren’t looking, cheeky Andrew turns down the volume on their little speakers!&lt;br /&gt;So if you’re a spruiker reading this and ever thought your speakers weren’t working and took them to get fixed only to have the repair man say they’re completely fine and thought to yourself ‘how mysterious,’ your mystery is now solved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT WOULD MAKE ANDREW POPULAR AT DINNER PARTIES&lt;br /&gt;WOULD BE: All the stories about the different characters who’ve picked him up on his hitchhiking adventures.&lt;br /&gt;I asked him to recall such a tale. He said he got picked up by a guy who gauged how far he’d traveled by how many six packs he’d drunk. Andrew then noticed a bunch of empty bottles on the ground and decided to get out at the next stop.&lt;br /&gt;I’m not sure if this was because of a morbid fear of empty bottles or because the man was getting drunker and drunker by the metre. More likely the latter because we all know how frustrating drunk people can be in conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A BELIEF ANDREW WOULD INSTILL IN PEOPLE IF HE HAD THE POWER OF BRAINWASHING IS: Not to believe in fairy tales.&lt;br /&gt;It’s fair to say I found this strange.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think I’ve ever met ANYONE who said they believed in fairy tales. Obviously Andrew had met so many that it was getting on his nerves.&lt;br /&gt;I found this utterly bizarre and it must’ve shown because he went on to say that he wasn’t referring to the Brothers Grimm kind of fairytale, but the ones fueled by consumerism and religion. To Andrew people should be more questionable and skeptical of what they hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS WHEN I INITIALLY ASKED HIM FOR COFFEE: He couldn’t even remember. It hadn’t phased him at all it seemed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS AFTERWARDS: "Mmm. Pretty good."&lt;br /&gt;I was amazed at how little Andrew was phased by our interaction. It was if strangers asked him for coffee all time!&lt;br /&gt;Andrew didn’t once question why I wanted to have coffee with him. In fact I don’t think he asked me any questions period! He didn’t give a toss about me at all! And I liked this! He didn’t care what my motivations were and he seemed to enjoy the idea of being on a sort of mock chat show. And it really did feel like one! In fact when he left I even said, "Well thanks for your time Andrew," and shook his hand.&lt;br /&gt;I then had a sudden impulse to turn to the staff of Hudsons and say, "Andrew everybody! Let’s hear it! And now live in the studio please welcome the Veronicas…"&lt;br /&gt;But I didn’t. Mostly because I don’t really like the Veronicas that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;OTHER THINGS YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT ANDREW&lt;br /&gt;Andrew finds a tiger the size of a snail more threatening than a snail the size of a tiger, as the tiger-sized snail would fall over on its own weight therefore rendering itself useless in battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In the last 42 years Andrew has lived in 35 different houses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It is Andrew’s aim to teach English in a different country each year for the next 7 years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Andrew owns a laptop, ipod, TinTin shirt, velrco thongs, a book and a box of miscellaneous stuff and that’s it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When Andrew left I felt a bit of a rush of euphoria. I was back baby! Strangers were on my side again! I practically skipped down the mall! Suddenly I spotted a shop front full of shirts that had the slogan ‘World Without Strangers.’&lt;br /&gt;I nearly lost my mind! It was as if someone had made these t-shirts for me! All that was missing was a picture of my face with a slightly stalkish grin!&lt;br /&gt;I immediately bought one! Then I realised a contradiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Why would I want a world without strangers?! How could I buy bloody coffees for strangers if there weren’t any bloody strangers to buy them for? I couldn’t wear this! What a waste of twenty bucks! But then I realised if I bought all the shirts on the display I could destroy them all and perhaps ensure the future of a stranger-filled world and thus the survival of my project! I did the maths and realised this would cost me about $10,000. Just for the shirts alone! That didn’t include three gallons of petrol, a fire-proof barrel, box of matches, safety officer, solicitor if things went wrong and bail money if things went really really wrong. Damn it! What was I going to do?&lt;br /&gt;A)  Distract the staff with a pantomime horse and a bloke dressed up as the Queen while I rob the store?&lt;br /&gt;B) Go on Today Tonight and claim the shirt gave me leprosy and therefore cause a recall of all the shirts.&lt;br /&gt;C) Tell a bikie the shirts slept with his missus and watch on as violence and hilarity ensure.&lt;br /&gt;D) Come to terms with the shirt and actually use it to my advantage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Either because I want to keep you in suspense or I have not legitimately decided which outcome will serve me best, you will have to wait till next time for the answer…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But Until Then,&lt;br /&gt;Mark, Andrew and the frigin’ shirts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-7108128645000987255?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/7108128645000987255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=7108128645000987255' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/7108128645000987255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/7108128645000987255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2007/01/no-6-andrew.html' title='No. 6 ANDREW'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-6273730657729649986</id><published>2007-01-06T14:33:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2007-01-06T14:42:37.659+10:30</updated><title type='text'>THE FAILURES</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Well I guess there is such a thing as "Beginners Luck."&lt;br /&gt;That’s right! This week my dreams were shattered. Hopes destroyed. Aspirations stifled!&lt;br /&gt;Santa brought no strangers for Mark this Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;I must say this surprised me. It’s Christmas time! Shouldn’t people be in high spirits? Shouldn’t the city be full of generous, giving folk keen to share a coffee in this holiday season?&lt;br /&gt;NO! Not the case!&lt;br /&gt;I warn, you the following tale is no Christmas Carol. To some this may be a relief, but regretfully words such as joyful, triumphant, merry, happy and King Wenceslas will be absent.&lt;br /&gt;This tale of doom starts at the Myer Centre food court where a short, black haired, middle-aged witch with warts all over her face, feaces in her hair and disgusting fire spitting maggots crawling out of her ears and mouth sat reading a book about raping children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Ok. Clearly this isn’t true but she was a bitch and I don’t like her and neither should you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"Hi, excuse me," I said, " I’m doing a little project where.."&lt;br /&gt;"No." she replied.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t understand. She had no idea what I wanted so how could she say no?&lt;br /&gt;"But it’s just.." I tried.&lt;br /&gt;"No-no-no!" she repeated!&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t believe it! Why couldn’t she just listen to me?! I was going to give her A FREE coffee. (I told you she was a bitch.)&lt;br /&gt;"You don’t understand.." I tried again.&lt;br /&gt;"NO," she stammered threateningly and then from her evil frothing witch mouth a hideous four-headed beast with gnashing razor sharp teeth flew out and made me listen to a Shannon Nole CD!&lt;br /&gt;Dah the pain!!! So to defend myself I sang ‘Angels Brought Me Here,’ by Guy Sebastian in my best falsetto and the beast withdrew giving me time to run away and find solitude in the food courts of City Cross Arcade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I rested and then spied a lady dressed in smartish business attire.&lt;br /&gt;But can you believe this my friends, she also said NO!&lt;br /&gt;But because she was nice to me, had a good reason, then talked to me a bit anyway I decided she was not an evil witch from hell.&lt;br /&gt;She was a Union Rep and was about to meet someone for coffee.&lt;br /&gt;What? Someone else was buying people coffee? I was outraged?!?! How could some else in Adelaide be having coffee with other people? That was MY idea!! I was furious at her!!&lt;br /&gt;Before I could yell, her phone beeped and she explained that her business associate was on the way.&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. Strangely it didn’t even occur to me that she might know the person she was having coffee with. Quite a big oversight on my behalf really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So in my heart I forgave her, bid her farewell and bee-lined it across the food court to a young handsome man wearing a business shirt doing nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I’m serious. He looked bored out of his wits. He was staring into space holding an empty water bottle. How bored can you be to resort to playing with a piece of rubbish?&lt;br /&gt;There was no way he could use ‘BUSY’ as an excuse!!&lt;br /&gt;Unless he’d specifically put aside this time to play with an empty water bottle, which isn’t that unusual as it is the No.1 pastime of people under three.&lt;br /&gt;But he didn’t look under three. Unless he had the type of rich yuppie parents who take their kids to hair machine and Julique and give them infant bras so that they look 21 when they’re really 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Though I didn’t rule out the possibility this business man may be wearing a bra I deduced the absence of parents meant he was probably over three, maybe even over seven and I decided to approach.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I did it was clear he didn’t trust me.&lt;br /&gt;I got this impression because he said, "I don’t trust you."&lt;br /&gt;"Look all I want to do is get a you a coffee," I explained. "I’m not going to ask you for money or make you sign anything or try sell you some expensive bras for toddlers I promise." I reasoned.&lt;br /&gt;"Ok. All right. Sure. I accept, but I still don’t trust you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Wow this guy lived on the edge! He was certain I’d screw him over but was going to have coffee with me anyway! It was like an extreme sport for him! He could well die but he was still willing to take the risk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Fearing he’d change his mind I quickly spurted out the words, "Great, what you want? Flat White? I’ll go get it! "&lt;br /&gt;‘Wait. Wait!" he protested. "You’re going off to get a coffee from round there where &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I can’t see you? You’re just some strange guy. How do I know your not going to put something in it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mmm. That was a good point. And he was right! I was going to put one of those wooden paddle-pop shaped stirrers in his cup for his convenience.&lt;br /&gt;Damn! How did he know this was my plan?? I decided to play it cool.&lt;br /&gt;"Well ok." I offered, "YOU can go get the coffees if you like."&lt;br /&gt;"No. If your really doing what you say your doing you can put it in your little thing that I said no and that was my reason."&lt;br /&gt;I was a little stunned. I was ok about him saying no, but I HATED how he called what I did a ‘little thing.’&lt;br /&gt;Fury entered me like wildfire! So I drugged him, took him round the corner to a dark alley, beat the living crap out of him and took his wallet!&lt;br /&gt;I know you would’ve done the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This was ridiculous! I couldn’t handle this rejection. I moped to Southern Cross Arcade and spotted a thin trendy guy reading at a table that could have been arguably inside or outside (sound familiar?). I had a good feeling about him with obvious good reason.&lt;br /&gt;But NO! My feelings had yet again played tricks on me for he was starting work in 5 minutes! DAMN IT! What was happening to me today?!?&lt;br /&gt;As a consolation he was genuinely sorry, said he really liked the idea and offered me a cigarette. I said ‘No thanks," like a disappointed child who has pleaded for an ice cream but is offered a Gorillas turd instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;In the short time that we spoke I learnt that ‘Mark,’ was a professional video editor and also worked in a Chemist. After talking about his interest in the human mind he said he liked my project a lot as it reflected true ‘tribal’ connecting, which was something he felt the cold ways of the internet was slowly killing.&lt;br /&gt;If Mark liked my tribal ways I decided to appease him further by wailing and dancing a furious, naked corroboree about the nesting cycle of the brolga.&lt;br /&gt;But before I could Mark had to shoot off to work but said I should try find him around the arcade some other time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Damn it! Had he seen the brolga dance he would’ve been blown away and would’ve quit his job to have coffee with me I just knew it! But too late I was! And now my 0/4 score was severely effecting me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I had to find someone! I was desperate!&lt;br /&gt;So for ages I stalked looking for someone PERFECT.&lt;br /&gt;Then I spotted a young man in a red shirt in The Myer Center. There was no time to lose! He had to be mine! So like a butterfly I decided to pounce.&lt;br /&gt;(I know butterflies aren’t especially known for pouncing, but the way I eagerly yet non-threateningly hung about his left shoulder seemed to suit the pouncing techniques of a butterfly more than say a leopard who may have torn apart his stomach and eaten off his face.)&lt;br /&gt;Maintaining an insect like stance, I introduced myself and he swiftly turned me down using the ‘have to go back to work!’ excuse.&lt;br /&gt;No! NO! NO! NO! I couldn’t believe it!!&lt;br /&gt;"I MUST convince him!" I thought! "He must be mine! God! I could kill him with my bare hands!!"&lt;br /&gt;At least I think I’d thought it, but more likely I screamed it out loud at the top of my lungs. But just then I noticed he was wearing a shirt with an SA emblem.&lt;br /&gt;"Ohh, you work for SA Great?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"No I work for SA Tourism. Which is different," he answered.&lt;br /&gt;YES!! I had a shoe in! I knew someone that worked for SA Great who I immediately name dropped hoping it would change everything!!&lt;br /&gt;But he didn’t know them and he reminded me that he didn’t work for SA Great.&lt;br /&gt;So I offered another name.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t know them either and he once again reminded me that he didn’t work for SA Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It’s not that I hadn’t heard him say he didn’t work for SA Great, it’s just that I didn’t want to believe it. He looked at me like I was deranged and I knew I was just kidding myself. So I bid him farewell wishing I’d used the pouncing the techniques of a more aggressive insect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I’d failed! 0 out of 5. For the first time I’d miserably failed! As I walked down the mall I felt like weeping. Why didn’t anyone want to talk to me anymore?&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I was approached by a random hobo carrying a clothes rack that hung 14 hideously dirty backpacks and other carrybags of different descriptions.&lt;br /&gt;"Oi, Iz made forty bucks on the bottles yesterday!" he proclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;Wow!! Someone did want to talk to me!!&lt;br /&gt;"Awesome!" I replied eagerly.&lt;br /&gt;But then he turned away to give his attention to a nearby bin.&lt;br /&gt;Rejected!&lt;br /&gt;But I understood he hadn’t rejected me, he was just busy and dedicated to his cause. Just like everyone else had been that day. But the first thing he pulled out was an empty McDonalds food container that he studied with great interest and then decided to keep.&lt;br /&gt;This made me sigh and I decided to call it a day and get MYSELF a free coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I sat alone at ‘Hudsons’ sipping on my flat white feeling disappointed. Was it over? I thought about all the lovely people I’d met so far, Michelle, Kevin, Mark As Well, Greg and Morgan.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah! Morgan! Morgan was so lovely that he promised to meet again to buy ME a free coffee and give me a book and CD he thought I’d like. He fulfilled this promise and we planned to catch up AGAIN in the New Year.&lt;br /&gt;If worst came to worse and no one agreed to have coffee with me ever again I could always rename this blog "The Adventures of Mark and Morgan."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As I sat and pondered about Morgan and the festive season I realised I was due for some rejections. I’d been pretty lucky up till now really. And then I felt a little sad thinking how Christmas had made people more busy and knarcy than generous and spirited.&lt;br /&gt;I pledged that I wouldn’t take this path. I decided "Can I Get You A Coffee?" would also have a holiday and I’d come back in the new year feeling fresh and ready to meet new and exciting strangers.&lt;br /&gt;So NO! This tale will not end in doom and gloom! I refuse! And it WILL contain and conclude with the sweet, inspiring words of a Christmas Carol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;King Wenceslas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A Happy New Year from,&lt;br /&gt;Mark, Morgan (again), Mark As well II and the other four non-events.&lt;br /&gt;xx&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-6273730657729649986?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/6273730657729649986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=6273730657729649986' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/6273730657729649986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/6273730657729649986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2007/01/failures.html' title='THE FAILURES'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-116652237735361640</id><published>2006-12-19T20:17:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2006-12-20T12:24:34.182+10:30</updated><title type='text'>No. 5 MORGAN and THE RETURN OF THE NOT QUITE INSIDE NOT QUITE OUTSIDE MAN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_taiK7c8Qjcc/RYiXRV5O1xI/AAAAAAAAAAY/-1Bzmpf4E9Q/s1600-h/eyeballroving034.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010420909640439570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_taiK7c8Qjcc/RYiXRV5O1xI/AAAAAAAAAAY/-1Bzmpf4E9Q/s320/eyeballroving034.jpeg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_taiK7c8Qjcc/RYiV_F5O1wI/AAAAAAAAAAM/5XF0DSVMxCQ/s1600-h/eyeballroving034.jpeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If you have read my last entry you would know that I have been pondering the future of this project.&lt;br /&gt;If you haven’t read my last entry you can read it now and when you finish it you will come to learn that I have been pondering the future of this project.&lt;br /&gt;Or alternatively you can read the last few sentences again and when you get to the end of this sentence you will have been informed at least three times that I have been pondering the future of this project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Yes it’s been fun so far but seriously, how long exactly am I going to do this? And why am I really doing it? Such questions plagued me! But then if I was unsure about the future then there was someone amongst my strangers, the very people who I was unsure about who could help me!&lt;br /&gt;I am talking about my first coffee recipient, "No.1 Greg," the guitarist-illustrator-screenwriter-photographer.&lt;br /&gt;Why enlist a guitarist-illustrator-screenwriter-photographer to answer my questions? Because Greg can predict the future!&lt;br /&gt;Yes he can!&lt;br /&gt;No, I’m not nuts and no neither is he! For amongst Greg’s many other professions Greg is also an astrologer and I decided to enlist in his cosmic fortune-telling abilities!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When I first met Greg at Café Boungiorno I was initially drawn to him because his table was positioned in such a way that it was neither, inside or outside the café. It was literally smack bang in the middle of the opened glass doors. It was bizarre! I immediately became obsessed. I was bothered so much with trying to decide whether he was inside or outside that I ended up talking to him.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say when he suggested we meet at Café Boungiono again I was very intrigued to see where he would be sitting! I was FAR more excited about this than any astrological wisdom or mystical jiggery pokery he may to tell me.&lt;br /&gt;But alas when I arrived there was no Greg!&lt;br /&gt;It was I who had to decide where to sit. Shit!&lt;br /&gt;But then I spied the very table at which Greg was sitting on that Friday night only a month ago to find it had been MOVED! It was a hot day so the glass doors were shut providing no chance for any table, man or animal to be neither outside or inside the café.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So where was the table now? Inside or Outside I sense you thinking. (I can now sense you thinking how it is that I can ‘sense you thinking.’ Just accept it. I now sense you thinking that just saying I can isn’t really adequate proof at all and that I’m talking crap. But then I just illustrated my point didn’t I! Confused aren’t you. See. I just proved it again)&lt;br /&gt;However, I have decided that I will not reveal whether the table was inside or outside just yet and you will have to wait. This is because I’m an arsehole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When "No. 1 Greg" arrived I was a bit excited.&lt;br /&gt;Now whether you believe in astrology and other such hocus pocus or not, one can’t get a little bit tingly moments before their future is about to be foretold.&lt;br /&gt;Now when I say tingly, I perhaps maybe mean I was carrying on like a big girls blouse.&lt;br /&gt;Ooohh! Would he tell me all about my true love? Would I be rich? Famous? Would I get to meet Bert Newton? And most importantly when were they going to freakin’ release the complete series of the Wonder Years on DVD!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Unfortunately Greg couldn’t tell me that. But the bloke at JB Hi-fi did! "Wow you should be an astrologer!’ I said to him. He didn’t seem to get what I was talking about. But I’m generally used to that kind of reaction from people now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But back to Greg. According to his chart my sun sign is Leo, my rising sign is Aquarius and I have a number of planets aligned in my 6th and 7th houses.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I know! Who’d of thought hey!&lt;br /&gt;But apparently this means my life will be dominated by creativity, the spotlight, working very hard and struggling for the approval of people in authoritative positions. That last two bits sucked balls a bit but it could have been worse. At least he didn’t say I would never meet Bert Newton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But I was really hoping Greg’s analysis of the mighty planets would give some sort of hint about what was going on with this bothering strangers thing.&lt;br /&gt;It was then that Greg looked at my immediate future and said the next two years will be mostly centered on people and relationships. He said that closeness with people would become a very dominant part of my life in the next while.&lt;br /&gt;I got very excited! Bert Newton was a person! Though he didn’t say the words ‘Bert’ or ‘Newton’ at all I was convinced Greg was basically saying I would marry Bert Newton within the next two years. Brilliant! High 5’s all round!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And though the stars didn’t say "You should go and meet strangers for coffee," the idea that I’d be spending more time with people gave me a bit of a confidence boost. I mean it may have been vague, but if people were going to be my thing for the next while, then I was certainly taking a step in the right direction. I suddenly felt a lot more accepting of the whole project. I bid Greg farewell feeling more at ease and generally more positive about what I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So the next day I strode into the Myer Centre feeling more confident and self-assured. Without much thinking at all I spotted a guy wearing a brown hat reading a newspaper and waltzed right up to him.&lt;br /&gt;He asked a lot of questions about why I wanted to have coffee with him and I was pretty certain he was going to reject me. Even when he’d said yes and we lined up at Gloria Jeans something seemed hesitant about him.&lt;br /&gt;I was starting to feel a little bit uncomfortable. I think he sensed this because he started to look a bit uncomfortable too. This seemed to increase the closer we got to the teller.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to worry about having a coffee with me if he didn’t want to. And then he began to open his mouth so it looked like he was going to save me the trouble.&lt;br /&gt;"I feel kinda bad about this.."&lt;br /&gt;Here we go.&lt;br /&gt;"..It’s just I’m getting a free coffee out of you for this.."&lt;br /&gt;You got to be joking I thought! What a lame reason to bail on me! This man was clearly a disgrace, a felon, a criminal!&lt;br /&gt;"That’s ok," I said, waiting to see what this vile creature would do next.&lt;br /&gt;"MM.. well…maybe…I’ll buy you one as well then."&lt;br /&gt;Me one as well? Me one AS WELL! I fell in love with him immediately!&lt;br /&gt;He had genuinely felt bad! And he was going to have not one, but at least two coffees with me! He was in for the long haul!! This man was clearly a star, a legend, an angel!&lt;br /&gt;And right from that second a great meeting of the minds took place! It was an inspired, flowing interaction full of connecting and conversing and laughing and inspiring, just the sort of communication Greg had talked about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THE MORGAN FACT FILE!&lt;br /&gt;AGE: 24&lt;br /&gt;STATUS: Married.&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE SONG: Humming Birds by Seals and Crofts&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE FILM: The Big Lebowski&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE BOOK: The Mold in Dr Florey’s Coat: The Discovery of Penicillin&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE YEAR OF LIFE: Each year has been an improvement on the last. Three years ago life was great and now life is even better and he has been getting happier and happier which has been very gratifying for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;GOAL FOR NEXT 12 MONTHS: To be useful. Morgan is on holidays now and he feels that he isn’t doing much and wants to contribute as much as he can to the world. He doesn’t feel complete in himself unless he’s doing something good for someone. What a great guy!!&lt;br /&gt;I told Morgan I didn’t feel complete without my arms, legs and head.&lt;br /&gt;Morgan laughed at what was really a lame joke.&lt;br /&gt;I liked him even more now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT EXCITES MORGAN IS: Learning how things work. He’s fascinated by popular science and the where’s, why’s and how’s of the world around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT PISSES MORGAN OFF IS: Morgan tries hard not to think about these things, but he is frustrated by people who never question things or who don’t consider that perhaps where, when and to whom they were born may be a significant reason behind the beliefs they have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A BELIEF MORGAN WOULD INSTILL IN PEOPLE IF HE HAD THE POWER OF BRAINWASHING IS: To make people question things and the world around them.&lt;br /&gt;To Morgan it doesn’t matter what you believe but it’s how you chose to believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A QUESTION MORGAN DECIDED TO ASK ME WAS… My life story. ANSWER: My life story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS WHEN I INITIALLY ASKED HIM FOR COFFEE: That I wanted his newspaper. Then that someone had dared me to approach him. Then that he might be on some TV program. Then guilt for getting a free coffee out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS AFTERWARDS: That I have a title and structure for what I’m doing but that my motivations for doing it are probably somewhat deeper. That I should keep this as an ongoing project because it seems that I am searching for something that I may not quite know yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;OTHER THINGS YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MORGAN!&lt;br /&gt;*Morgan finds a parrot that sings the theme song to ‘The Golden Girls’ more threatening than a kitten whose paws leak out red biro.&lt;br /&gt;*His wife however is PETRIFIED of kittens! In fact she has nightmares about them regularly!&lt;br /&gt;*Morgan is obviously not a kitten (or he’d have a different wife)&lt;br /&gt;* Morgan is from Newcastle and has been here two years to study dentistry.&lt;br /&gt;* Morgan used to regularly rock up at peoples houses with a bunch of mates and some gardening equipment and offer to do their gardening for free.&lt;br /&gt;* Some of his mates are of Middle-Eastern background and after September 11 the extent of people not accepting their offer declined so radically that it just became to ‘awkward’ and they sadly decided to stop doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was touched by Morgan’s genuine interest in humanity and goodwill and was saddened that he wasn’t mowing other people’s lawns anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Mainly because it meant the chances of someone doing my lawn for free had now decreased, but also the idea of people losing their will to do good for others didn’t sit to well with me.&lt;br /&gt;But then Morgan told me that his fellow do-gooders met every 3rd Sunday of the month at the State Gallery for an event called ‘Soul Food.’&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty hungry so my eyes lit up when he mentioned food.&lt;br /&gt;So Morgan went on to say it was put on by the Baha’i society.&lt;br /&gt;Baha'i was obviously some new restaurant and so I asked him to tell me more.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I’d got it wrong, (a rare occurrence) and The Baha'i Society was actually a sort of new religion with a goal to unite humanity and to acknowledge that all religions, people, cultures and nations were equal and had something important to say.&lt;br /&gt;With eyes somewhat watering Morgan talked of a hope for a world where humans loved and appreciated each other and the environment around them.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t help be moved by Morgan’s passion and he offered to meet the same time the next day and give me books I might find equally as inspirational.&lt;br /&gt;I told him I couldn’t as I was going to be walking around with a giant eyeball on my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(See above. Ha! And you thought I was a lier!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I could an hour after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So we arranged to meet again and he promised to get ME a coffee when we did.&lt;br /&gt;This was awesome! My strangers were asking me for coffee now!&lt;br /&gt;And this was just the beginning! Who knows if I played my cards right maybe they’d be giving me cars and helicopters soon too!&lt;br /&gt;I hoped this is what Morgan meant by there being something deeper to what I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t sure if there actually was or wasn’t something deeper but it didn’t matter. To just be interacting and strengthening my closeness to people generally as Greg suggested was good enough for me. Particularly if I was getting free stuff every now and then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Until next time Mark, Morgan and Greg (again!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;PS. It was Inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-116652237735361640?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/116652237735361640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=116652237735361640' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116652237735361640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116652237735361640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2006/12/no-5-morgan-and-return-of-not-quite.html' title='No. 5 MORGAN and THE RETURN OF THE NOT QUITE INSIDE NOT QUITE OUTSIDE MAN'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_taiK7c8Qjcc/RYiXRV5O1xI/AAAAAAAAAAY/-1Bzmpf4E9Q/s72-c/eyeballroving034.jpeg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-116523097151165393</id><published>2006-12-04T21:42:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2006-12-06T15:19:54.886+10:30</updated><title type='text'>No. 4 MICHELLE</title><content type='html'>Once again I found myself walking through the Myer Center Food Court, a place that is fast becoming the official "Can I Get You A Coffee" meeting place.&lt;br /&gt;But only hours before this I had a pretty odd experience. Since I started this project, strangers were now beginning to approach me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There I was on my laptop at Café Bourngiono trying to understand a bizarre message fellow comedian Trav Nash had left on my ‘My Space’ profile.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*For those who aren’t ‘with it,’ My Space is an online community where you basically have your own web page where you can display a profile, your favorite movies, books, sports, episode of ‘Growing Pains’ and other interests as well as photos and even videos of yourself. Other people can view this profile and if they like you and your favorite Kirk Cameron moment they can ‘add’ you to their ‘Friends’ page. There are more than 2 billion people on the planet with a My Space profile! Therefore making it possible to have 2 billion friends!!&lt;br /&gt;This will come in very handy if some drunk guy decides to shove you in a pub! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Suddenly a pretty young girl walked behind me and said "Hey add me if you want. I’m listed as ‘Grey eyes.’ And then she sat at a table close by.&lt;br /&gt;So I typed "Grey eyes" into the search engine but the profile of some angry black guy from Colorado came up.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I was intrigued. Maybe this sweet girl had a mental disorder where she thought she was actually a gangster rapper. Oh this was GREAT!! The exact sort of person I'd need in a pub-fight scenario!!I noticed she was sitting with an older woman who I deduced was her concerned mother or carer or parole officer.&lt;br /&gt;"Hey! Nice beard!" I called to her pointing at her photo.&lt;br /&gt;"That’s not me," she laughed. "Refine the search to people in Adelaide."&lt;br /&gt;Somewhat disappointed I found her actual profile, added her as ‘friend’ and strangely didn’t talk to her again until she’d left me a message on my profile the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;What a surreal way to meet someone! A ‘real’ person had asked to be my ‘internet’ friend. Usually this happens in the reverse order and often the police and restraining orders follow from that.&lt;br /&gt;As odd as it was I thought it was great!! These online communities were seemingly making people more approachable and friendly to each other in the wider world! I certainly was finding people were a lot more open to me and my strange project than I was expecting.&lt;br /&gt;But then I was very good at selecting people who seemed quite approachable. Like MICHELLE for example, who I found sitting quietly in the Myer Center finishing off a vanilla soft serve ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;So how does one appear approachable? Mmm. I’m not sure. She had frizzy hair. But so does the Bride of Frankenstein and she’s hardly approachable, even in her better moods.&lt;br /&gt;But my assessment was obviously correct because when I asked her for coffee, rather than spitting on my face or shooting me with a crossbow while tiny devils flew out of her ears and stabbed me in the eye with pitchforks she said ‘yes.’&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly she had actually seen me perform on stage about 6 months ago at PJ Obriens and apparently I had talked in length to her boyfriend Jason after the show.&lt;br /&gt;So if she’s seen me before was she really a stranger then? Mmmm. Would I have to snatch her hot chocolate away and give it to someone else instead!&lt;br /&gt;I contemplated it.&lt;br /&gt;But then I felt bad about not remembering her or her beloved Jason and having to call off our drink might be the last straw and indeed cause the little devils to fly out her ears and poke me in the eyes with pitch forks. So I decided she WAS a stranger but just one who had watched me from afar.&lt;br /&gt;Actually this definition makes her sound like a stalker.&lt;br /&gt;Actually it didn’t at all until I brought it to everyone’s attention just now. But just for the record NO Michelle is NOT stalking me or anyone else I’m sure. Though I can’t be 100% sure of this fact, I mean she seemed lovely and genuinely harmless but I don’t know her 100% well enough to say definitely that she isn’t a stalker. Who knows, maybe she was stalking this ‘Jason’ guy. I certainly don’t remember him! Maybe he doesn’t even exist at all!!! Maybe she’s completely delusional, had escaped from an institution and was about to blow up the entire world and I was the only one who could stop her.. alright perhaps I’m taking this way to far and I should probably change subject now before I get poked in the eye by little devils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Michelle has only just recently moved to Adelaide from Perth to be with Jason (who for the record I am CERTAIN is real) after being in a long distance relationship with him since 2004. Leaving her family and close friends behind has definitely been a challenge and it’s Michelle’s ambition to start up a home massage and beauty-therapy clinic here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE MICHELLE FACT FILE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AGE: 35&lt;br /&gt;STATUS: Relationship&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE SONG: Depends on the mood. Currently it’s John Meyer&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE MOVIE: Currently ‘Step Up’&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE BOOK: ‘Cause of the Soul’. Thomas Moore.&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE YEAR: 2004. WHY: The year she finally felt a strong direction in her life accompanied with a feeling of everything ‘coming together’ after years of self-analysis and spiritual investigation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOAL FOR NEXT 12 MONTHS: To achieve independence in Adelaide. i.e. to get a place of her own and get her business up and running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOMETHING THAT EXCITES MICHELLE IS: Achievement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOMETHING THAT PISSES MICHELLE OFF IS: People who lie and manipulate when they could just be direct and honest about what they want out of other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A BELIEF MICHELLE WOULD INSTILL IN PEOPLE IF SHE HAD THE POWER OF BRAINWASHING IS: You can do anything you want to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A QUESTION MICHELLE DECIDED TO ASK ME WAS: What’s your background?&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: My mother was born in Italy and moved down here with her family when she was 4. I’m only half Italian but tend to become more Italian in manner depending on how many Italians are in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THOUGHTS WHEN I INITIALLY ASKED HER FOR COFFEE: Apparently Michelle actually saw me walk past, had recognised me and was quite intrigued when I’d looked back. She enjoyed the spontaneity and felt my approach was open and sincere.&lt;br /&gt;Michelle also was feeling in a bit of a rut and was feeling a lack of spontaneity so having something out of the ordinary like this happen felt refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THOUGHTS AFTERWARDS: That she’d had an interesting time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OTHER THINGS YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MICHELLE:&lt;br /&gt;*Michelle finds a puppy who can breathe fire more threatening than a shark who is petrified of Justin Timberlake’s music.&lt;br /&gt;*Michelle admits she likes Justin Timberlake. Particularly the song ‘Rock Your Body’&lt;br /&gt;*Michelle therefore is obviously not a shark.&lt;br /&gt;*Michelle’s grandmother is Lebanese.&lt;br /&gt;*Michelle is interested in spirituality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting strangers has become quite fun and I’m starting to get quite good at it. But really what’s the point? And how long am I going to keep it up? Will I stop when I meet a certain number? Maybe I won’t stop? How long into the future am I going to keep doing this? I started to worry about it. Probably quite unnecessarily. But then I suddenly realised one of my strangers could help me. If I was concerned with the future of this project and about the future in general there was someone indeed who could help answer my questions. So I decided to track him down.……..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until Next Time,&lt;br /&gt;Mark, Michelle and Grey Eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-116523097151165393?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/116523097151165393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=116523097151165393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116523097151165393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116523097151165393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2006/12/no-4-michelle.html' title='No. 4 MICHELLE'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-116468317037230530</id><published>2006-11-28T13:32:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2006-11-29T13:16:42.840+10:30</updated><title type='text'>No. 3 KEVIN</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to recent success I decided to once again visit the Myer Center Food Court to find my next victim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also decided to stop referring to these people as victims.&lt;br /&gt;This is for two reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;First, I don’t want you think I plan to kill them. You may get excited, become under the impression this is a tale of blood-fest and horror, find that it isn’t and all I did was have coffee with them, become furious and demand I pay for your time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Secondly victim implies these people are not willing counterparts and have been physically forced into our exchange beyond their fancy. This is certainly not the case and I like to think they may even enjoy themselves. I guess I can’t guarantee this, hey they may not enjoy themselves at all, but at least they can say they’ve had a FREE coffee that day and heck how many people can rest their heads on their pillow saying that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Maybe quite a few but at least they have an interesting story to tell at work or at a party or to their wife during dinner. Even if the story begins with the words .. "Boy I met this absolute dick-finger today…."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If No.3 ‘Kevin’ does indeed use such a phrase to describe me then I will feel quite bad as he didn’t even get a free coffee out of it.&lt;br /&gt;"Sure you can meet me," he said with a smile. "But don’t worry about the coffee."&lt;br /&gt;This was a great start to our meeting and immediately I had a good feeling about him. I think this may have had something to do with the fact I’d just saved myself 6 bucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What made me approach Kevin in the first place was that he was looking at a map. Part of me hoped he was an explorer or an archaeologist and that by meeting him we would end up having an adventurous journey involving ancient ruins, stolen artifacts, spiders, Mummies and Sean Connery’s beard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Then I got excited! He had luggage too! YES! He WAS going on an adventurous journey! But as I got closer I saw the map was just of Adelaide bus-routes.&lt;br /&gt;DAMN! At least I was right about the journey. It was just a far less exciting one involving pubic transport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;But there could still be stolen artifacts involved! They were just most likely to be from Cash Converters than from a temple. And there could still be beards! But they were just more likely to belong to some old Italian ladies rather than Sean Connery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It turned out that Kevin’s journey actually involved a trip to Olympic Dam.&lt;br /&gt;Exactly what Kevin was doing there or what he does in general was a bit hard to comprehend and to be honest I don’t think I’ve got my head around it.&lt;br /&gt;It’s something about computers. Yep. Computers. And slightly more sophisticated than playing solitaire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Based in Sydney, Kevin works for a company that builds and maintains the infrastructure, cabling and networking of computer systems for large corporations. His mission to Olympic Damn involved setting up a computer workstation in the control-room of a mining site there.&lt;br /&gt;I must’ve looked confused because he pulled out a very intriguing floor plan of the control-room for me to have a look at. I’d never seen a floor plan of a control room before and I immediately fantasised we were secret agents plotting our next dangerous mission. YES! AWESOME! I was in tight black latex crawling through an air conditioning duct and I could see infra-red trick alarms which I would have to dodge using stealthy acrobatics taught to me by an ancient Jujitsu master in Tibet. And part of this whole espionage for me was about avenging my masters death. Ruthless drug-embezzling barstards! You will pay!! He brought me up like a father!! Me and Agent Kevin will make you sorry! Dojo Xiang-Chen I will avenge you! With honor! I love you my dear teacher!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I realised I was staring off into space. Apparently there are cultures on this planet who consider this a sign of rudeness so I stopped fantasising and reluctantly returned my attention once again to Kevin. But as a compromise I still pretended to be wearing black latex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THE KEVIN FACT FILE&lt;br /&gt;AGE: 63&lt;br /&gt;STATUS: Separated with two children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;FAVORITE SONG: None in particular but likes the sounds of John Farnham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;FAVORITE MOVIE: Die Hard. (Suddenly the espionage fantasy didn’t seem so inappropriate and I was sure Kevin too had been fantasising.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;FAVORITE YEAR OF LIFE: 1999. WHY: In this year Kevin was apart of the team behind designing and installing the computer systems used in the running of the Olympic Games. Computer equipment used in events such as the regatta and triathlon was all thanks to our man Kevin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;GOAL FOR NEXT 12 MONTHS: To retire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT EXCITES KEVIN IS: Designing and getting involved in ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT PISSES KEVIN OFF IS: People not wanting to pay you for the work you’ve done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A BELIEF KEVIN WOULD INSTILL IN PEOPLE IF HE HAD THE POWER OF BRAINWASHING IS: To be yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A QUESTION KEVIN DECIDED TO ASK ME WAS… "How is this whole thing working out for you?"&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: It’s interesting. I’m wondering why on Earth I’m doing this.. but it’s still fun so I’m going to keep doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS WHEN I INITIALLY ASKED HIM FOR COFFEE: That I wanted something and that I was probably going to give him a little card with a religious message on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS AFTERWARDS: That it was good to meet me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;OTHER THINGS YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT KEVIN!:&lt;br /&gt;*Kevin looks like newsreader Kevin Crease.&lt;br /&gt;*Kevin had an operation 6 months ago which prevented a heart problem that both his mother and sister died of when they too were exactly 63 years of age! Freaky!&lt;br /&gt;"Well that was lucky!" I said. "Looks like you won!"&lt;br /&gt;Kevin looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly realized what I’d said was in poor taste. I’d basically made fun of his dead family. Shit. What was he going to do? Suddenly he began to open his mouth. Oh no! Was he going to yell at me?! Cry?! Have a go at MY dead family. I just wouldn’t cope if he started on my beloved Dojo Xiang-Chen.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily what came out of Kevin’s mouth was a hearty laugh and I breathed a sigh of relief.&lt;br /&gt;*Kevin laughs when he should be offended.&lt;br /&gt;*Kevin’s son has just moved to Adelaide.&lt;br /&gt;Ahoy Kevin’s son, we people of Adelaide welcome you to our lands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I left Kevin and my new imaginary leotard behind feeling quite positive. This was becoming a lot of fun. Yes maybe it was still an odd thing to be doing, but who cares! It’s positive, it’s fun and maybe it’s even encouraging a sense of trust and community in the city. And that surely is a good thing particularly when you don't consider other people as 'victims' on any level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Until Next Time,&lt;br /&gt;Mark and Kevin&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-116468317037230530?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/116468317037230530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=116468317037230530' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116468317037230530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116468317037230530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2006/11/no-3-kevin.html' title='No. 3 KEVIN'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-116408298259957743</id><published>2006-11-21T14:50:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2006-11-21T14:53:02.603+10:30</updated><title type='text'>No.2 ‘MARK AS WELL’</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes that’s right. No.2’s name is also Mark. Thought I better clear this up now just in case you thought I’d given up on this idea and started taking myself out for coffees instead.&lt;br /&gt;Not that isn’t an enjoyable or interesting experience. I sit at a table on my own and look at the wall and stuff. It’s great reading it really is…but this isn’t the time for that. This time is for a man I call ‘Mark As well.’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before meeting Mark As well, I had my first ‘No.’ Personally I was quite surprised! Just to look at him I thought he’d be up for it. He had long dark hair, was frowning slightly, quite nerdy and was reading a comic book. I thought he’d be the outgoing type. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mark As well was sitting in the Myer Centre food court right next to an Optus phone kiosk. He was wearing a nice blue shirt and was eating a muffin and my first thought was that he worked in the Optus kiosk and loved his job so much that he took his breaks as close to his work as possible.&lt;br /&gt;He said yes to a coffee without hesitation and as I came back with two flat whites I realised I hadn’t properly introduced myself yet.&lt;br /&gt;But as I put the coffees down on the table he quickly piped, " Hey my name’s Mark as well."&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I was puzzled. I guess I had introduced myself.&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked ‘So, what was your name?’&lt;br /&gt;I was confused. "Mark.." I said. "As well.’&lt;br /&gt;"As well?"&lt;br /&gt;"As well."&lt;br /&gt;Mmm. I decided not to press the issue. Mark As well didn’t work for Optus. He’d just finished a law degree and was on work experience in the Legal Aid department for the The Institute of Aboriginal Affairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;HERE’S THE MARK FACT FILE:&lt;br /&gt;AGE: 24&lt;br /&gt;STATUS: Single.&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE SONG: Adagio for strings- Samuel Barbel/The Nothing Song- Sigur Ros.&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE FILM: One Flew Over the Cukoos Nest.&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE BOOK: Brave New World- Aldous Huxley&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE YEAR OF LIFE: Nov 2005-2006. WHY: Previously Mark has been shy and a bit of a hermit. But thanks to an increase in activities such as public speaking, Mark has challenged his comfort zone and experienced a year of great personal growth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;GOAL FOR NEXT 12 MONTHS: To attain his driver’s license.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT EXCITES MARK IS: People standing up for an unpopular idea because they believe it’s the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Suddenly I was frightened. Who did he mean by people with unpopular ideas? People like Hitler? Chairman Mao? Or even worse, Jesse McArtney or James Blunt? But this fear turned into glee at the prospect I may have someone who’d support me in my idea to find surfaces that are accompanied by "Caution. Slippery When Wet" and re-pathe them using Bon Jovi albums.&lt;br /&gt;(Get it? ‘Slippery When Wet??’ Ha ha. sorry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT PISSES MARK OFF IS: The amount of hair his sister’s new dog leaves around the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A BELIEF MARK WOULD INSTILL IN PEOPLE IF HE HAD THE POWER OF BRAINWASHING IS: To not hurt one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A QUESTION MARK DECIDED TO ASK ME WAS… "Do you think this project of yours is going to work?"&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: I’m not sure. It’s only the beginning. It’s been fun and I’ve been getting a lot of interesting ideas out of it, but I don’t want people to think I’m just using them for material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS WHEN I INITIALLY ASKED HIM FOR COFFEE: That I had chronic shyness or a social phobia and that I had asked him for a coffee as an exercise my shrink had set me and that he’d better say yes or I might get crushed and spend the rest of the night under my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS AFTERWARDS: Good, interesting and that more stuff like this should happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;OTHER THINGS YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT MARK AS WELL!!&lt;br /&gt;* Mark finds a cow covered with poisonous spikes more threatening than a man-   eating lion that can only walk backwards.&lt;br /&gt;*It was Mark’s birthday! (What a great present I must have been!)&lt;br /&gt;*Mark obviously likes to treat himself to a muffin on his birthday.&lt;br /&gt;*Mark is a vegetarian because he once saw David Beckham wearing kangaroo skin  boots. I’m assuming this was on the TV and not at his local Bi-lo. Because it’s fairly likely David Beckham would wear something more comfortable like sneakers or ugg boots at Bi-lo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I walked out of the Myer Centre together chuckling at Mark’s idea that I could be so socially inept that I might sleep under my bed. I wondered if that’s where the long harried comic nerd was going to sleep tonight. Not because I’m insinuating he has social problems, but because it looked like he was reading a scary comic and that’s where I always sleep when I get scared. Well since my parents have refused to let me sleep in their bed anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;Mark and Mark As well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-116408298259957743?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/116408298259957743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=116408298259957743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116408298259957743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116408298259957743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2006/11/no2-mark-as-well.html' title='No.2 ‘MARK AS WELL’'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-116408276919754646</id><published>2006-11-21T14:42:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2006-11-24T14:11:43.376+10:30</updated><title type='text'>No.1 GREG.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES!! It starts. The gun has fired and I have begun the race!&lt;br /&gt;I bought my first stranger a coffee! Actually it’s not a race at all. I don’t why I made the analogy. I just like the idea of firing a gun to start this off.&lt;br /&gt;Not a real gun of course I just pointed my index finger in the air and made a ‘bbscoooh" noise.&lt;br /&gt;Awesome noises aside, here is how I met my first stranger..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking around town for almost half an hour going into different café’s looking for someone to have coffee with. How on Earth was I going to approach someone?How the hell was I ACTUALLY going to do this?? And why the hell was anyone going to agree to do it?!&lt;br /&gt;I was starting to feel very nervous, apprehensive and extremely negative about the whole thing. The way someone might feel just before they are about to be shot out of a cannon. Though far worse because I wasn’t wearing a helmet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I studied the loads of people sitting outside Café Buongiorno but no one seemed approachable! They either looked to busy or too serious or to crazy or kissing someone or were a dog or had glasses or had hair.&lt;br /&gt;See NO ONE looked approachable! I decided this was just a dumb idea and I decided to give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THE END.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So there you go. I know it didn’t last long but hey.. we all have stupid ideas don’t we.&lt;br /&gt;As I’d fully accepted my defeat I briefly glanced once more at the kissing couple, the dog and a man with hair and smiled at the idea of not bothering them.&lt;br /&gt;Though the man with hair was sitting more inside the café, than outside of it.&lt;br /&gt;Though actually… his table wasn’t really inside the café enough to be outside. But yet not really outside enough to be inside it. Do you follow?&lt;br /&gt;I kept walking. But then I stopped. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a second look. Outside or inside I wondered. DAMN him he was both!! Or was he neither! It infuriated me! Even more infuriating was the fact he didn’t seem bothered by it at all! How could he be so calm about sitting like that?! Can you believe it?! I was going to have to run over and drag his table a few inches for him! But what way would I drag it?!? Further inside or outside?!! Damn it!! I was about to die!! I could feel it! Then he made eye contact with me and I realised that I was staring and that I had to stop or he’d call the police or the army or my mother.&lt;br /&gt;But I had to do something. And then it dawned on me! That something was surely to ask him for coffee! So I did. And he smiled and said without hesitation ‘sure.’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not quite inside-not quite outside man was slim with a ponytail and a kind face.&lt;br /&gt;I decided to call Not quite inside-not quite outside man NQINQOM for short.&lt;br /&gt;I then shortened that to Greg. Conveniently this was his name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Greg was working on an astrology chart for his friend’s mother when I met him.&lt;br /&gt;As well as an astrologer, Greg is also a professional illustrator and is the guy who does the pictures in those ‘How to Draw’ books. Not only that, Greg can play guitar quite well and aspires to branch into photography and screenwriting!&lt;br /&gt;I presume he will start a business where you go to him for an astrology reading and rather than just telling your future he actually delivers it in the form of an animated cartoon musical adventure and then takes photos of you as you watch it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THE GREG FACT FILE&lt;br /&gt;AGE: 37&lt;br /&gt;STATUS: Single&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE SONG: None&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE MOVIE: None&lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE BOOK: None &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Right now Greg must look like a rather negative person. Or boring as batshite.&lt;br /&gt;Rather, Greg actively refrains from judging the quality of a piece of art over another preferring to appreciate the work in its own right. Therefore you probably will not see Greg as a judge on Australian Idol any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;GOAL FOR THE NEXT 12 MONTHS: To achieve semi-professional work as a photographic artist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT PISSES GREG OFF IS manipulative forces. Mainly those in authority in such areas as government and the music industry who manipulate artists and people to fit a certain ideal rather than allow them full expression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;SOMETHING THAT EXCITES GREG IS: Beautiful women.&lt;br /&gt;Granted, men like women. The survival of our race depends on it. Then there’s Greg.&lt;br /&gt;A man who believes the human female form at its point of maturity is the single most beautiful phenomenon in the universe. For over twenty minutes Greg passionately justified his fascination using Indian philosophy, intelligent design theory and his own illustrations (yes illustrations!) which he pulled out of a yellow folder. After his genuine and very sincere speech I could see that appreciating all the girls of the world was merely my conquest as a male specimen and I immediately forgave myself for all the times I’d picked up at the Arkaba.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A BELIEF GREG WOULD INSTILL IN PEOPLE IF HE HAD THE POWER OF BRAINWASHING IS: To realise they are as equally powerful and have equal potential to achieve the same heights as the next person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A QUESTION GREG DECIDED TO ASK ME WAS… "So do you do standup do you?"&lt;br /&gt;ANSWER: Yes. Yes I do. (Probably accompanied with a wink and click of the finger)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;THOUGHTS WHEN I INITIALLY ASKED HIM FOR COFFEE: That he was very open to it and often meets people in a similar random manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;OTHER THINGS YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW ABOUT GREG!&lt;br /&gt;*Greg knows someone who’s a friend of actor/comedian Jim Carey.&lt;br /&gt;*Greg prefers not to have his photo taken. He fears it will steal his energy.&lt;br /&gt;*Greg ordered a weak cuppaccino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I was very, very happy with my first coffee with a stranger. Yeah. This was a good thing to be doing. Conversation came very easily and there was loads more I wanted to ask but ran out of time! In fact so genuinely engaging was my time with Greg that I completely forgot to address how he could stand being neither inside or outside the café.&lt;br /&gt;As I walked away I came to a shocking realisation! I to had been not quite inside or outside the café! For an entire hour and a half! What the buggers?!? How could I do this without losing my freakin’ mind?!&lt;br /&gt;Wow. I had a feeling I’d grow somewhat by starting this project. But not like this! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It felt good! Empowered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So now if you walk down a street and see someone sitting not quite inside or outside a café nodding at you with a huge smile on their face you’ll know it is me. Or Greg if he’s with a beautiful woman. Though it may not be Greg because such things don’t seem to phase him. Further you probably wont notice anyway because you’re not a freak and only a freak would even take the time to ponder something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;Mark and Greg.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-116408276919754646?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/116408276919754646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=116408276919754646' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116408276919754646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116408276919754646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2006/11/no1-greg.html' title='No.1 GREG.'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36059437.post-116091675197478596</id><published>2006-10-15T21:35:00.000+09:30</published><updated>2006-10-30T22:53:02.076+10:30</updated><title type='text'>I'M GOING TO BUY SOME STRANGERS COFFEE. HMMMM. WHY???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Are you asking or am I? We both are I guess. I don't really have an answer. I guess I want you to have some interesting reason to keep visiting my site. So is it going to be interesting? I don't know I haven't started doing it yet! It might be gobshite!! But I think it will be good. I mean it's pretty good so far. I mean nothings happened. I know that. But it's not boring....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;But that's the point maybe. I feel like I'm becoming boring and not only that I'm getting bored. Not as in I have nothing to do but as in just bored in general. I have to make an effort to be interested in things I'm doing and the people I'm talking to. I feel flat and a little sad when doing the things I'm supposed to love and that's getting kinda worrying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Well, there are exceptions.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I wasn't bored on Friday while traveling to my gig at Rhino Room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I got excited by my taxi driver! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Very excited! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;He was a Jamaican guy... I know!! Good already!.. and while we're driving there's a song on the radio I despise. I tell him this, he agrees, switches over and Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough" comes on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"YEAH!" I shout. This somehow prompts my phone to ring which has Michael Jackson's "Wanna Be Startin Somethin" as the ring tone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I'm so excited by the fact that two Michael Jackson songs are playing at the same time that I decide not to answer it (Sorry Craig) and I once again involuntarily shout "YEAH!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The taxi driver is amused, and asks "So you like Michael Jackson?"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"YEAH!" I reply. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I then realise "YEAH!" are the only words I've said since being in the cab and in fear of appearing autistic I follow immediately with "Yes, Yes I do!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He smiles and I swear this is true, pulls a portable DVD player from what seems like his right ear, presses play and the "Smooth Criminal" film clip starts immediately.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I lose my shit! Not one, not two, but THREE! Michael Jackson songs are playing at the same time! I can't contain myself "YEAH!YEAH!YEAH!" I shout.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The taxi driver is very happy as he knows he's going to get a big tip. He's wrong as I had no cash so pay with credit. Unlucky for him. But a GODSEND for me as I would have given him at least seventy dollars being so OUT OF MY MIND from that "triple-whammy-Jackson-palooza." (Shutup. What would you call it?!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I want more of this caliber of excitement more often! Don't you?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And this is WHY I'm embarking on this project! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As I got out of that cab I realised part of the thrill had come from the fact I didn't know this guy from a bar of soap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;How many other odd random people out there could return me to that place where my true passions lie and invigorate in me those endorphins which fire only when I'm being who I'm supposed to be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Like a bar of soap, that Jamaican guy cleansed me and made me feel pure and I pictured myself standing in a shower rubbing him all over my naked chest. I then pictured ALL the people I was going to meet standing with us saying nice things to each other and rubbing each others chests.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This suddenly made me feel weird and uncomfortable and I swore to myself that I would never tell a soul what I'd just imagined.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nevertheless I got excited. I'm going to meet some random, fun people and we're going to have a good time!! I want you to get excited too. So get three sets of speakers, face them in the direction of your listeny bits..(they're on either side of your face) and have yourself a "triple-whammy-Jackson-palooza!" cause I'm anticipating some exciting times ahead.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36059437-116091675197478596?l=marktrenwith.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/feeds/116091675197478596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36059437&amp;postID=116091675197478596' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116091675197478596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36059437/posts/default/116091675197478596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://marktrenwith.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-going-to-buy-some-strangers-coffee.html' title='I&apos;M GOING TO BUY SOME STRANGERS COFFEE. HMMMM. WHY???'/><author><name>CAN I GET YOU A COFFE??</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05436853275032679949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://www.marktrenwith.com/marksmall2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
