It was a sunny, cloudless Saturday afternoon in Melbourne, not too hot, not too windy; the perfect weather for a frosty fruit and can of coke.
I was assigned second shooter on the 2012 Adidas Australia tour. It was a deep crew with close to 20 professional skateboarders plus Adidas marketing, media and managing folk traversing through our humble nation. On this particular start to the weekend our spot choice of warm up was at the Northcote town hall, a fun low-to-the-ground tiled ledge any skateboarder would enjoy. It was after a half hour that the session had been going and although we had super fun vibes and countless landed tricks, not quite the maneuvers worth documenting. I hadn’t eaten yet so I decided to phantom from the pack and find a quick bite for lunch.
I walked only about 500meters down the road to a small take away. It was very minimal with a few chairs, drink fridge, small TV in the corner and an elderly white haired man in an apron behind the counter, manning the grill and deep fryer.
I ordered,
“Ummm, can I please get a grilled chicken burger and some chips?”
He looked at me with a calm half smile and slight bow of his head, blinking both eyes as if to say, “Yes.”
I had a seat, taking in my surroundings, admiring the big fake shark sign hung on the wall in front of me. Beside it was a framed picture of a young man behind the grill, which looking closer read; “Jim, first day 1963”. It was a picture of the weathered gent behind the counter, and if my math serves me well he had been at that deep fryer for 53 years. I was immediately taken aback and thought how impressive it was he had been in the biz for so long, and that I was about to eat a burger and chips cooked by a veteran. I was most certainly in for a treat.
“…the shop door burst open and a man with a similar silhouette as Cosmo Kramer slid in.”
As I sat gazing around with excited watering taste buds the shop door burst open to a man, with a similar silhouette as Cosmo Kramer, who slid in and to my surprise the frizzy haired weirdo was in fact Mark Gonzales. Like a dehydrated dog in a desert, he fell past me straight to the fridge, grabbing the door with his right hand and clutching a liter bottle of soda water with his left, chugging it as if his life depended on it. At this moment I looked around for a face more confused than mine but there was only Jim; poking into the deep fryer barely noticing Mark’s presence and the performance happening behind him.
Half a bottle down, the soda had just left Mark’s lips followed by,
“HEY! Could I get ah, could I get ahh – fish n chips?! Yeah yeah fish n chips!!”
At this point I’m certain I am experiencing the Gonz’s first time ordering fish and chips.
As previously with myself, Jim gave Gonz the same half smile, nod and slow motion blink assuring Mark’s fish and chips were on their way.
Mark turned around and sat down right next to me,
“Hey! How you doin’? That was a real nice switch crooked grind you did earlier at that Lincoln place. Is it called Lincoln?”
I said, “Yep, Lincoln Square in the city?”
Mark, “Yeah that was really cool!”
As much as I wanted to claim the recognition, unfortunately that switch crooked grind was not performed by me,
“Umm thanks, but nah that wasn’t me”
Mark, “Oh… are you sure?”
Me, “Yeah pretty sure, I wasn’t at Lincoln this morning.”
Mark, “Oh, okay.”
I felt like I had just blown a treaty between two rival countries or destroyed a piece of valuable artwork. I should’ve lied and just been cool like, “Oh you saw my switch crooked grind? I worked really hard trying to nail it and I’m glad you saw it!” But that’s not what happened.
By this time I noticed Jim wrapping my chicken burger so I said my awkward good byes to The Gonz and proceeded to the counter with my eight dollars and thirty cents.
I stood outside unwrapping my burger and thought how strange that last 10 minutes had been. Should I have asked for his autograph? I could’ve at least got a picture with him. Oh well, it wasn’t so bad because although my awkward convo with Gonz was unforgettable, so was that tasty, tasty chicken burger.
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