Just When I think I have Seen it All (part 5)

The quickest way to get yourself thrown out of Wayside Tavern is to relieve your bladder into a pot plant, ashtray, secluded corner of the room, or even just against the wall.

People who relieve themselves in this manner are usually somewhat clandestine about it.

Last night however, was something never before seen by Mine Host.

The entrace to the Wayside Tavern has outside a 10m x 15m slab of concrete, bathed in spotlights, and covered by several surveillance cameras.

People often congregate here to drink & smoke. Some will sneak away to relieve themselves somewhat discreetly.

However never has anyone been known to remove all their clothing and have a leak in the open.

A young man did just this (stripped), relieved himself, dressed again and carried on drinking as if this was normal and acceptable, right in the middle of this open entrance area.

Incredibly both he and his comrades were perplexed at being immediately evicted.

They could not see what he had done to deserve it.

Located near playground!

In comments at Lita's place Miss J has accused Mine Host of being a "wet blanket" for saying something totally minor like the staff at Traders Hotel are aloof (to the point of cold-shouldered haughtiness).

It is very naughty of Miss J to say this, as Mine Host did (try to) talk up the physical luxury of the place.

Theme lighting beneath a translucent basin unit. Soap from a previous hotel visible in washbag, prior to Traders soaps being loaded for later use at home.

Nabbing guest soap from overnight stays means the home stock stands at roughly 5 years supply.

The bathroom is luxurious, with sufficient vacant floor space to set up a fairly good slot car track.

The room is spacious, with a cute oval shaped desk in the middle. The bed is wonderfully soft, however the careful observer will notice that (staff frostiness aside) the place is relegated to mere "clip-joint" status by the lack of a picture on the wall.

This means there is absolutely no hope of an RACQ 5-star rating.

A tantalising glimpse of this playground is visible from the window of the room. A dearth of playgrounds when he was a child causes Mine Host to these days reflect wistfully at sights such as this.
.. And here is the main view:

The Rugged Individuality of the Stockman!

Mine Host was raised, lived and worked as a ringer until the age of 27 before he noticed (to his everlasting delight) that occassionally he unwittingly wore an informal uniform.

These two fellows (pictured) would react with mildly irate disbelief were they to be informed that every day for a week they had worn exactly matching outfits.

The can't-tear-em shirt being sold in only 4 colours:....
Dark Green
Navy Blue
Khaki
Grey
...sometimes resulted in entire stock camps being clad in exact match clothing.

PostScript: A question to sort the hobby farmers from actual Ringers:

What is it about the accoutrements of the ringer on the white horse which indicate he has done little if any scrub riding?