A few weeks back Malcolm Turnbull walked into my work and ordered some tea. When I went over to his table I thought “why not” and had a chat with him. I thought he might be some rich snob who wanted his tea and nothing more, but he freely answered all my questions, and even asked me about my degree. He didn’t seem fussed at all about being questioned by some smart-ass political science student. He did give me the typical government crap about VSU, but he had a good joke with me when I asked him about how busy his office must be and Costello challenging (“Well word is it might be on tomorrow!”). We were even on first name terms with him by the time he left.
I didn’t vote for his party last year, (I don’t live in his electorate either – go Peter Garrett!) but he impressed me a lot. I was amazed that he was out at a busy shopping centre on a Friday night, especially with billions of Rugby fans swarming around about to go and watch the Waratahs. Would anyone from the Howard front bench ever have the balls to do that?
Oh, and he left a nice tip, too.
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