St Kilda Pier. Saturday morning, back in December last year. It’s summer and it’s loud. Jet skis slicing the water, spinning and spinning just to spin, burning petrol. You smell it before you see it.
There’s a system in place.
Girls wave from the pier. Guys circle below like sharks. One guy stops. She jumps. Quick talk. Straight onto the jet ski. Her arms wrap around him immediately. Physical contact first. They take off fast, way too fast. And they spin and spin, everyone laughs. He circles back, pulls her in. A kiss and she’s back on the pier, returning to the crew cheering for her.
