At this cafe there’s a bunch of mothers ordering babycinos for their children.

I’m thinking about when we returned to Australia from the United States, and I went into Year Nine.

At school this one guy kept calling me ‘dickhead’.

He’d say, ‘Hey, dickhead.’

And I’d say, ‘Hey.’

He’d say, ‘You got protection, cunt?’

And I kept thinking he meant guns.

He’d say, ‘I’m serious, man. These bitches are filthy.’

And I’d say, ‘Oh.’

One morning I started saying, ‘Hey, dickhead.’

And that morning he slapped me on the back and said, ‘You’re a good cunt.’

And I thought: nice.

I get it.

Here, you tear someone down and that means you like them.