Sam didn’t want a coffee from the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art.
“It’ll help you focus on writing covering letters today.”
“I’m OK, thanks.”
We were en route to his car because he wanted to park the car closer to my hotel. He had seen a few all day parking spots just behind where I was staying, and wanted to move his car there. The massive meal was still rolling around my tummy, and so the walk felt like a good idea.
The ACCA sat in Melbourne’s “art-district” with two warehouse style galleries filled with works by Australian artists. We didn’t stay longer than the time it took to pour my coffee, but we managed to sneak a look at some of the paintings and I managed to take the business card of the events coordinator at the gallery.
He drove around South Bank for about 20 minutes looking for a parking spot because he didn’t want to pay for a few hours, and we ended up three blocks from where we started anyway! The hilarious exercise took an hour or two away from productive time, but we had much laughs and it reminded me of something that Dad might do.