Sloppy Joe

On a somewhat regular basis, Tracy, my boss at On the Wallaby, would ask me to cook dinner for those of us working there. We got barbeque (steak and sausage or veggie patty, salads, and mashed potato) every night, which could get a little old. Since I love to cook, I was happy to help.

Tracy is a vegetarian, so I had to make sure to leave the meat out of whatever I was preparing. For a couple weeks, I’d been talking up these vegetarian sloppy joes my sister had made, having to explain to Trace what sloppy joes are in the first place (because it’s not a dish in Australia) and how I would make them vegetarian.

I had finally remembered to get the recipe, so the next time we did a grocery run for the lodge, I picked out the lentils and everything else I would need. The plan was make them that Friday because Judith, one of our regular guests who is friends with the owner and Tracy, was coming up for the weekend. Trace had texted Jude to bring her appetite since we were having Monica’s sloppy joes for dinner.

Tracy’s roommate was also over for dinner and was going on blind faith that the meal would be edible—he’d had my food before so wasn’t worried. He works with Americans and had asked them what sloppy joes are, but they couldn’t explain how I could possibly make them vegetarian, seeing as the main ingredient is ground beef.

When Jude showed up, she was confused that our meal was called sloppy joes because, never having heard of the dish, she had interpreted the message “Monica’s sloppy joe” as a new euphemism for some guy named Joe who I was messing around with, like the whole thing was a sloppy mess. And that Joe would be at dinner.


* For any non-Americans, sloppy joes are a crumbly hamburger with onions, green bell peppers (capsicum), celery, and a ketchup-based (tomato sauce) sauce mixed in. They’re served on a hamburger bun (bread roll) and may be eaten picked up as a sandwich, but they’re usually so sloppy that it’s easier to consume open-faced with a knife and fork.

Magnetizing Weirdos

Where my amazing ability to draw in kooky people comes from, I don’t know, but it certainly has made my life richer. Ok, I do know that when I only witness the oddness, the skill comes from observing people around me…and a little voyeuristic listening to their conversations. But it’s the times when they feel the need to speak to me--that’s the gift from nowhere.

Last week, there was a woman on the tram creating a ruckus by shouting that her home is jail and that she wanted to stab two white men. She did not in fact stab anyone on the tram, just caused a scene and made everyone feel uncomfortable. I do want to say she was not talking to me but was on the other end of the tram.

A few days ago, I sat down in a food court for lunch, and the guy at the next table, who was missing multiple teeth, smiled and said hi, so I said hello back. A woman came through yelling to herself. The man turned to me, laughing, and said something about how she’s so crazy and always shouting. He proceeded to talk smack about her incomprehensibly. 

A few days ago, I spoke with Rachel, a lavender-haired woman who was most likely on drugs and may or may not have been homeless.

Most of the day Monday, I watched free Adelaide Fringe shows at the mall, a venue for the artists performing at the Fringe to let people know what their show is about and to provide the public with some free entertainment. To fill time between acts, the host asked the audience if anyone had already seen or was going to see a Fringe show. Rachel, who had been watching all morning, too, said she won tickets to a show that night. I gave details about Confessions of a Control Freak.

After lunch break, I hear Rachel holler my name and look over thinking, ‘yay, this woman knows my name.’ She says her friend (can’t remember his name) went crazy and deleted his Facebook. “Oh, that’s too bad,” I replied.

Later that afternoon, she came and sat next to me and said she recognized me from our conversation the previous week. “When you were talking earlier, I said to myself ‘that’s Monica.’” We had never spoken before that day, but I wanted to see where it was going so I just went along with it.

She asked how long I’d been in Adelaide and whether I liked it. She’s been in Adelaide 12 years, but she doesn’t like it because her boyfriend broke up with her. And also because he stabbed her. She reiterated about her housemate who came home high, went crazy, and deleted his Facebook.

She told me she was trying to sell the tickets she had won for $20 because she had to work that night. It clearly said on the tickets that they were free, so I don’t know if she had any luck with that. She also said her auntie works at the Hilton and that she’s letting Rachel live there for free. I chose to believe the bit about the housemate over her living at the Hilton.

On Monday, I was sitting watching the shows at the mall when I feel poke on my shoulder blade. There's Rachel. "Oh, hi! how are you?" I asked. "Sore," she replied. "I got kicked out and had to sleep on the streets last night. That's why I have all my stuff with me." She pointed to a red suitcase. I didn't question her about living in the Hilton. She pointed out her new haircut, which was a little shorter with the sides shaved.

Anywho, whatever the reason these people talk to me, I guess I'll have to accept it.

Last Night I Had to Sleep with Strangers

For the last six weeks, I have been in the company of five to eleven people I met during the "fun week." Some of us split off in Melbourne, and there were six of us who traveled to Adelaide together a couple weeks ago. For the last couple weeks, it's just been our group in a dorm room, which has been nice because no one is going to steal anything. Our group has split up, though, so last night I was in a room with random people. 

Last week, Binx went to visit his aunt. Yesterday, Luke went to Port Lincoln for a shark dive. Richard is still here, but we're not in the same room. Luke will come back Thursday, and then he and Richard return to Melbourne Friday. 

Sunday was a really difficult day because I had to say goodbye to Scott and Adele, my favorite people here, because they went back to Melbourne. I know we'll get together again while we're here, and we plan to visit each other in the future. But they've become my family here, and it's scary when you've been with people for so long to think of being on your own. 

It's not that I dislike traveling on my own...quite the opposite. I can do what I want, when I want, for as long as I want. I can eat what I want, when I want. Basically, I don't have to keep anyone else happy.

Obviously when you travel, you're away from everyone and everything you know, which is terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. When you do make friends traveling, you progress into the friendship much quicker than you would at home. I revealed more about myself to these people in a week than I would in months back home.

At home, I have best friends, ok friends, family, acquaintances, good friends...basically a whole lot of choice of who to spend my time with. Here, I've been with the same people all day every day, and we converse the whole time. I've created these deep relationships that feel like I've known them for years. Maybe it's the introvert in me, but when I become friends with someone, I give a little piece of myself to them, or at least that's how I feel.

For now, on with my adventure!