Grey pavers of death.

They're oblong shaped, probably following the Golden Ratio, and a tasteful shade of corporate charcoal. The council are paving (or rather, causing to be paved, as cement dust is a bitch to get out of thousand-dollar suits) the sidewalks of the entire city in them, ripping up perfectly inoffensive cement and admittedly ugly asphalt. They do look lovely, all neat and modern while retaining a gentler appeal. Or something.

The problem is that when you get them wet, the fuckers become lethal. "Law-suit inspiringly slippery" barely begins to cover it. It's sort of bearable in the Bourke Street mall, and the other perfectly flat areas of urbanity. However, much of Melbourne's CBD is either up hill or down dale. And in grip-free high heels (such as, oh, most of the female office-dwellers wear) going up hills is suddenly impossible, as the moment you put your weight on the ball of your foot, you slide backwards down the hill. In my stomper boots and a light drizzle, I once slither-skated an entire downhill block. Which, on the one hand, was hilariously awesome. On the other hand, it was mildly terrifying.

I think the only possible recourse is to actually get skates. Or maybe a pair of those rollerblade ski things. I've been seeing them everywhere, and the mayhem potential is immense!