One of my favourite things about Melbourne is its unpredictable, wildly fluctuating weather. You might begin crossing a street with clear, sunny skies only to find yourself running for cover from run and hail halfway through. It can be annoying at times, but more often than not it results in a good story.

Such an incident occurred last week. We were crossing as a group of four strangers and rain began to fall, gently at first, then heavily, followed by hail. Within seconds we were soaked and running for cover.

The closest shelter we could find was the entrance to a strip club, one I had walked past many times in the past but never inside. As we huddled together, sharing in each other’s warmth, the bouncer said something in a thick Italian accent which nobody heard: we were all too wet. Eventually, he noticed that a member of our party was shivering, a middle-aged woman in a singlet, so he offered her his thick black jacket. She took it gratefully, though it was immediately apparent that the jacket was too large for her. It nearly went down to her ankles and looked more like a blanket.

At this sight, one person began to chuckle. Then another, then myself, and soon the sound of laughter rang out into the depths of the building. All of this had transpired in less than 30 seconds, and only now were we beginning to see the absurdity of the situation. Outside, the hail was assaulting the roofs of cars like little bullets.

And so the five of us huddled, watching the weather unfold in front of us. All that sustained us were the body warmth and clothes of strangers in an unusual building, laughter ringing through its walls.