Generally, I’m too busy checking out buildings, sunsets or other people to notice objects of the vehicular ilk. The cars I’ve noted on my street* in the last six months number three exactly, only because they’re not like the other boring samey-samey¬†cars: a vintage powder blue boxy Mercedes from a certain era (very stately); a silver or gray Rolls Royce (I can’t say the colour exactly because I’ve only ever seen it at night, streetlamp-lit); and a fire engine red Ferrari (enough said).The Mercedes is my favourite and I always worry about the fact that its owner has left it so casually parked on the street. Call me cynical or jaded (hah!), but I always fret that some angry/bored delinquent will stroll by and equally casually run a key down the length of the car.

I’ve lived at four different addresses since moving to Sydney almost eight years ago, and at one place someone set fire to my housemate’s jeep, while in a separate incident a nobody walked into the so-called-secure garage and punched through the windows of about sixty cars – the security camera wasn’t operational, of course. At our last address on that leafy-ish street in the Inner West, a vandal took a traipse and his blade to christen every soft-top with an ‘L’-shaped cut – there were about four or five, I seem to recall.

Yesterday evening, as I was approaching the apartment building, I saw the old London ‘Hackney Carriage’ and snapped the shot quickly to prove to myself that I hadn’t imagined it. I found out later it was part of the Tonight We Tanqueray campaign. Ah, as cool as it was seeing a black cab on my street, I would’ve been happier if Mr Idris Elba had been there instead. Coincidentally, I’m very partial to a Tanqueray No. Ten & gin. But I didn’t have any last night.


* Oh, and of the non-motorised variety of transportation, I saw this one