A Prickly Bandido

Cacti with flowers as pink as an early morning sunset. Mosquito cacti. Cacti in rocks. Red, yellow,
purple cacti. Sound fascinating? To the average person, probably not. Try telling that to the Cactus
Man. With a beard rivaling Gandalf himself, a moustache to put Burt Reynolds to shame and a
cheese and Vegemite sandwich in hand, he cheerfully serves customers in one thing, and one thing
only. Cacti.

The lady next to me, nose in the air and reeking of bad perfume, orders the Man to bring her the
small prickly cactus next to me. With a look of “I’ve seen this all before” and a slight raise of the
eyebrow, he gladly sells it to her. Nose still raised high, the lady walks away and makes a sly
comment about his beard to her girlfriend. Yet the Cactus Man carries on, as he has for 23 years at
the Queen Victoria Market.

He then comes over to me, and looking me up and down, suggests a cactus named ‘The Bandido’. “A
miniature Mexican with a suggestive cactus protruding from his pants,” he mentions. “Easy to look
after. Water in the summer every two weeks, and don’t bother in the winter. When he starts to grow
branches, that’s when all manner of jokes come out.” It’s an easy sale, because he knows his
customers, and he knows his cacti. “I’m looking for something new,” he comments, “but for now,
this is just what I’m after.” 23 years in the cactus business has to count for something, mate.