Aunty comes a squarkin’
She seems to know what day, hour, minute, second
The money hits the bank – jeez talk about psychic
I pick up the phone ‘Buub Buub” I hear at the end
‘Can you help Aunty out?’ – As if that’s a question!
And then the line ‘Seeee uuuhhh Uncle’s got a winner in his sights, race three,
he got that proper good feelin’ about this one girl,
we gonna be rich. [long pause] Will pay ya back’
I laugh to myself as the dance begins...
I know the winner has a one way ticket to the pie factory,
Lets just say, my Uncle’s gambling habit has been consistent.
I’m wiser to the storyline as last payday it was coming up short on bills, and the one before patch up to fuel up the car that always rides the big E.
I laugh to myself as the game begins, like clockwork, every second Thursday morning, 9am sharp, before the taste of coffee hits my lips.
No use thinking about having the day off to break the cycle, these blaktrackers would find me.
“How much this time?” I say, doing such a bad job of concealing my sarcasm
“Don’t be like that, we family and it’s the way”
Ahh the cultural card, I knew this wasn’t far off.
“But Aunty” I say, “Uncle’s a winner if he doesn’t put that bet down, get that scratchey or buy that lotto ticket…”
“Buub Buub” I’m interrupted. “If I wanted a sermon, I woulda went to church. You need to respect your Elders Buub, we’re family and that sticks”. I had a different word in my head.
So I succumb.