Friday Night Foam

Sydney prides itself on being a sophisticated, modern city that offers a wealth of quality entertainment options.

This is not one of those options.

This is a cheap Friday night option, and yet as soon as they saw it, everybody passing the Queen Victoria Building made a beeline for the fountain that is perplexingly dedicated to Queen Victoria's dog.

Normally, this fountain has a motion sensor, so that when unsuspecting tourists venture near, a voice cranks up:
"Hello, my name is Islay. I used to be the friend and companion of the great Queen Victoria...."and on and on it drones, suggesting you toss some money in before winding up alarmingly with a "Rrrrruff!! Rrruffff!"

Tonight, the fountain is the target of an industrial detergent attack (judging by the foam, I would estimate it happened about 10.15pm), and everyone seemingly has to come and inspect it, then grab a snowy scoop of foam and fling it at somebody. One girl fell into the fountain, and while she then smelt most becomingly of fresh apple, she found it well-nigh impossible to scrape all of the foam off her legs or wring out her dress adequately. Last seen dripping in the direction of the train station.

I am wondering if the good old 'detergent in the fountain' gambit is a cultural thing. Many of the tourists were amazed and bewildered, particularly Asian couples and young blonde men who were all called Ingo or Sven.

Of course, in my day, if one put detergent into the fountain, one always added some condes crystals as well, so that for a few minutes you got a lovely rainbow coloured foam that eventually just turned brown. (Cough) Apparently.