Sydney spivs

On Saturday evening I carried some Randwick race types – drunken spivs in suits -from a Paddington pub to a City nightclub. The type of wannabees who only attend the races for the social event. 

The following exchange, so typical of Sydney spivs, took place...

• Spiv 1 – Hey, do you have that bird’s number?
• Spiv 2 – What bird?
• Spiv 1 – The one I was chatting-up at the races.
• Spiv 2 – Christine..?
• Spiv 1 – Yeah, she’s in nutrition, right?
• Spiv 2 – Yeah, but mate, you can’t root her. She’s got a boyfriend.
• Spiv 1 – Oh, really? (pauses)...Doesn’t matter, give it to me anyway. If I can’t root her, then I may as well make some money out of her.

Further reading - Sydney: the good, the bad, and the ugly.