One of the things about being PM is that people sometimes think you’re out of touch with ordinary life. Couldn’t be further from the truth. Because despite the fancy title, I’m just like you. I go to the rugby, I enjoy the odd beer, and from time to time I drop into a salon to see if I can intimately shampoo the hair of someone I’ve never met before.
In other words, I’m totally normal. Just a regular, suburban dad who places his fingers within an unknown woman’s wet hair on the way down to pick up the morning’s paper.
You see, deep down we’re all the same. We work hard, fire up the barbie in summer, head down to the beach when we can, and wash each other’s hair in a public setting.
It’s what I love about Aussies. And I’m just a regular Aussie. A regular Aussie who knows the name of their next-door neighbour, that the price of a litre of petrol is about $8.50 and that no-one will say no to being intimately touched on the head by a stranger if you bamboozle them with bright lights and cameras.
It’s true that I once said I don’t hold a hose. But of course that’s only in a national emergency. In the more commonplace context of someone wanting their hair washed by a 53 year-old man who’s just walked into their $250 cut-and-colour appointment, I’ll be the first to pick up the little hose and gently stroke it across a woman’s scalp. And I know the majority of other Australians would do the same.
Anyway, hoo-roo. I’m off to a beauty salon to wax an unsuspecting customer’s pubic hairs.