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Rated: 18+ · Other · Biographical · #1497987
A record of the day I met one of Australias outback characters
I have been thinking about writing dialogue with an accent.



After reading copious amounts of stuff on the Australian accent I have come to the conclusion that we don’t speak like Steve Irwin (a hero of mine) or Paul Hogan but we do speak using slang for impact, humour and emphasis. Below is a monologue I wrote which makes use of the Australian accent and slang, I'd appreciate some comments on it's effectiveness or lack of.



I lived in the outback and met many Ozzie ‘larrikins’. One was called ‘Harriet’. I had heard a lot about him but never met him. I thought for a long time that his name was a good-natured nickname for a bloke called Harry. The following is something I wrote about the day we met.



                                                          Harriet.



I was in town for the day. The car registration was overdue and it needed a service. But the moment I announced that I was making the 280 kilometer trip, I was immediately inundated with “While ya in there, do ya think ya can drop in the chemist and git me…” By the time I had ploughed through the red bull dust on the track that led to the station gate, I had a ‘to-do’ list as long as my arm.



After languishing in the local café slurping on an ice cold lime ‘spider’ (something I had been dreaming about since I decided to make the four hour drive) and wandering around the dress shops, I headed for the store. As I opened the door, Amy Pearce looked up from her crossword puzzle nodded, wrote a couple of letters, thumped down her pen and dragged her voluminous form out of the weary chair.

“Got a message for ya, she said. “Harriet’s picking ya up an' takin' ya back out. Somethin’ not right with ya car. ” She went onto to explain that the shearer’s cook had phoned an order through and Harriet had already loaded it.



Just as I began to ask what he looked like, the bell on the shop door tinkled. I turned around to see the tallest, thinnest man I had ever seen but it wasn’t that, that blew me away. It was the hat! It was bigger than a ‘10 galloner’. Miles too big even for him. It sagged down over his eyes so that all you could see was a toothless grin. It was sweat stained and part of the side of it looked as though the dog had had a real good go at it. He gave me the once over and held out a skinny brown hand ”Harriet ‘ere mam. Ya charriot awaits.”



Harriet led the way down the dusty footpath to where an old brown station wagon stood in the shimmering heat. Its back end was so low to the ground that there was barely any clearance at all. As I drew alongside it, I could see through the dusty glass that the whole of the back section was filled with cartons of XXXX beer. “They're for tha’ cut out party on saturd’y night” he grinned.

As I climbed in the car and perched myself on the kerosene tin that served as a seat, Harriet said in a very serious tone. “Mind the seat belt will ya. Don’t want ta git booked!” We both burst out laughing.



As we hurtled down the highway leaving a trail of blue smoke, I clung to the dashboard. “Bin thinkin’ about installin’ a ‘Jesus Bar’. Harriet grinned at me from under his hat. (To this day I have no idea how he was able to see the road.) “But it’s more fun without it!"

When we left the highway and headed down the dirt road towards Ivanhoe, palls of dust filled the cabin. Harriet didn’t slow down. “Ya don’t feel the bumps if you drive fast,” he informed me as I leant forward and rubbed my bruised rump. (He at least had a flattened out sheepskin on his kerosene tin.)



The kilometers flew by. Conversation dwindled to “Roo!”

“Yeah… missed him” “Oooh! Shit!”

“Hang on…” As if I could hold on any tighter.

“Them barsted emus… stewpidest thing god made!



About three hours into the trip the station wagon slowed, coughed a couple of times and died. Harriet let the poor old girl glide to a stop at the side of the road. The door screeched a protest as he opened it and climbed out into the blazing heat. As he raised the bonnet all I could see was the hat!



I got out and walked over to sit in the scanty shade while I waited. Harriet slammed down the bonnet walked to the back door, opened a carton and cracked a stubby. After several long slurps he went to the two-way. “You listenin’ in boss.”

“Yeah, Harriet. What’s up?”

“Conked out on the Ivanhoe, about 20 big ones from the homestead.”

“Ok. You got the girl with you?”

“Yeah.” Harriet took another couple of slurps and tossed the bottle into the saltbush at the side of the road.

“Don’t drink any of that xxxx.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, boss.”



I stayed in the shade. Harry came over carrying two hot stubbies. He opened one beer for me (which I still haven’t finished) and sat down. After some time he started to talk. It seemed like he was going to confess his sins at first. There were long silences between each sentence and his drawl seemed to be more pronounced. Perhaps it was the personal nature of his thoughts that made him coy. “You know," he said as he kicked the dirt with his right boot. "I had a twin brother...  Looked exactly the same...  Couldn’t tell us apart... Harriet broke off a twig from the small bush that was providing the life preserving shade. "They called us both Harry. Then I got this hat." He started to chew or (rather gum) the twig. "So then they called me ‘The Harry In the Hat’…”



Some explanations:

1) xxxx beer - a brand of beer loved by Queenslanders and some other 'discerning'  Australians.

2) Cut out party - after the shearing is done the shearing team get drunk before they head into town to spend their pay check (get drunk again) and then reform at the next sheep station to do the same all over again. (Apologies to all those sober shearers who have been packing the brass away for a better life)

3) Jesus Bar - A handle mounted on the dashboard for terrified passengers to cling to while they pray to Jesus to spare their miserable life (those are the christian ones) or just plain blaspheme.

3) Roo - short for kangaroo. They can be a driving hazard. The person in the front passenger seat has the role of calling 'roo' if they see one (or dozens) by the road to warn the driver who is usually going flat to the boards. (very fast) as the distances between anywhere in the outback are great.

4) Emu's - A large flightless bird ( a bit like an ostrich) with the intelligence of a bull ant.





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