Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Saturday was an interesting day. My work held a fete, which is where I bought the typewriter, shoes and etc. and some other yummy treats. I think I spent $10 for the whole day. I browsed through all of the stalls we had; pet a lamb; fed some baby sugar glider possums; pet an owl, which nearly gave me a heart attack because I fucking hate birds; pet a Blue Tongue Lizard; sat with a couple of my residents and talked to them for a bit; watched the raffle draw; and then went home.
Saturday night, Rachel text me and we made spontaneous plans for drinking in town. I actually had money for once and the weather was great. We had pre-drinks at hers, and caught the worst fucking cab ride into town I’ve ever experienced. Our driver practically had his foot on the fucking floor the whole time he was driving, took corners way too quickly and too sharply, and then kept slamming the brakes on at the last fucking minute. It was so rough, I vomited. Twice. The first time, I sneakily vomited because it came up without notice. I managed to hold down most of it, but about a handful came up. I quietly dropped my vomit on the car floor, and then told him he needed to pull over. I vomited the rest of what would have come up in the street. I made sure my legs covered the bit I had in the car. When we got out, I didn’t say anything and we walked away.
We got to McDonald’s, I washed my hands, told Rachel and then we ate a burger each before going into HQ. Once we got in, she ordered two drinks, we went outside for a cigarette, and then Nadia and Jenna found us. They went to get more drinks and Rachel and I went to look around the club. Our favourite part of HQ, Soho, had been changed. It was outside where you could smoke, drink and dance, but they moved it to an upstairs section. When we got up there, it was terrible. The music had changed, it was too quiet, and if you stood too closely to the edge of the balcony, people below could see up your skirt/dress.
We eventually left and made our way to Rocket. On our way through the McDonald’s car park, I actually heard the worst “pickup line” ever. One guy turned to his friend and said, “She looks like she has a box gap,” then offered me some chips. I know I’m skinny and all that jazz, but fucking christ, there’s more to me than my body. We ignored them and kept walking. By the time we got to Rocket, there was a massive line up. The security guard there kept pushing everyone “back into line” because they were apparently making the line too big or some shit. We casually made friends in the line, some douche recognised my Fullmetal Alchemist tattoo and took that as an invitation to get way too friendly with me, and we debated whether waiting in line for 30+ minutes was really worth it. We eventually got in, found our friend behind the bar who poured us extremely strong vodka drinks for the price of one, danced around and sang to the best 90’s songs we remembered, went to the rooftop bar, then decided we were over it and wanted to go home.
We made a quick pitstop at the shisha house because Rachel wanted a yiros before leaving. While waiting for her food to be made, I found Harry and Sammy outside. Turns out the boys plus Many were in town trying to find people to have fun with. They ordered peach shisha, we sat around and talked for a bit, then we went looking for a cab home. The cab ride home wasn’t nearly as bad as the trip into town, but this fucker was going 20-40km over the fucking speed limit and practically never slowed down for the speed humps. We went over them fast enough that Rachel and I were bouncing around in the back seat. I wish I had taken the names and numbers of those drivers so I could have called their companies to complain. Put my life in danger with reckless driving and you will fucking hear about it.
We fell asleep within minutes despite being sober and woke up relatively early Sunday morning. Despite the shitty cab rides and the vomiting, Saturday night was fucking loads of fun. I wish I took photos.