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Friday, November 07, 2003
Just the facts, Maam
Neil, it's like we were there. "Noice,noice, good one, all good," as i've been saying a lot this Spring. It's only the looping film of our weekend, projecting on the back of my eyelids, that satisfies me we were, in fact, in Sydney. You know we love to represent with yo posse. We feel like Bill Murray in STRIPES when he says, "Lee Harvey, I want to party with you!" We know you all munch deeply on the Pink American Taco Stand of Life ( that's a Van Wilder Party Liaison line .. we're going through a phase.)
Before I launch into a brief description of the weekend TRHE and I just enjoyed can i just say i like the ute line. I don't do cars; Eloise has to show me where to check the oil. I do like the car metaphor. So, let's get this story off the blocks and revving.
We had arranged to meet some people at 7pm ( God bless Internet ) at The Century ( Damo, you know The Century. On George above Hungry Jacks. Old School. No pokies ). Y'know, just for preliminary drinks, meet n greet and to rein in our bucking anticipation. And it worked. Within seconds of our arrival we were centred, Saul on the road to Damascus style, and why not when we were greeted by a group of what we very quickly discovered were "our" people, all real, for want of what i am sure is a much better word, and personable. One couple in particular. Here i have to admit i was quite taken with the appearance of a 48 year old Swedish artist named Veronique, who has pictures hanging in the National Gallery apparently. She did have the misforturne of being accompanied by the one genuinely ugly person we met on the entire night. A redneck from the country who, although only in our company for an hour, managed to embarrass her numerous times with his redneck utterances. When this happened her lips would curl upwards, dragging her cheeks askew with them, and she would drop her gaze towards the floor .. and then she'd be over it. She also had on gun jewellery. A little later on we were fortunate enough to see the jewellery up close and unhindered by clothing. By then her slightly drunk self was draped over me and she was repeating, quite unnecessarily i thought, the words, " I'm just holding myself up." Of the other couples at the Pub, three were from Canberra. One of them knew you, Neil .. just joking. One couple we took a particular liking to consisted of Amanda, a pagan electrician from Lismore with blue streaks in her hair, who'd flown in for the night. Later, much later, in fact the following day, while heading for coffee and yoghurt ( I have become a big fan of yoghurt post going ) I inspected her hands and commented," You have good nails for an electrician. Do you do any work?" Shortly after Eloise and I took a hand of hers each and we skipped down Bourke Street, over Oxford Street and forgot to turn left to angle for coffee. But we made it eventually. You may have noticed that Les, who was quite the picture of Inner West cool and the male half of this couple was not with us by then. He had retired home at 7ish but what the hell has happened to the continuity here, sucker? Weren't we at the Pub a minute ago?
Indeed. But before we'd arrived at The Century we had stopped briefly at McDonalds for sustenance and speculative people watching. We concluded that one older guy, in leather pants and with metallic plugs in his ears, must have been attending the Ball. After placing his big, black bag and umbrella down (and it was a dry night!) he went to take a seat. This ordinarily simple motor skill was complicated by whatever he had on under the leather pants because he sat down as if he was in calipers. Another woman nearby was in a red skirt and black top. It was rather a conventional looking skirt but the colour got us thinking. Later, much later, in fact in a time and place where our heads were steeplechasing water jumps and burning hurdles, i saw her again and pointed out to Eloise that the skirt must have had patches and where the patches had been were a pair of shapely buttocks protruding. The black top was nowhere to be seen. Remember that when you're next having a cheeseburger. But we still haven't left the Pub !
So, we finally left the pub and walked the short distance to The Metro, of all places, where the ball was being held. Although I wasn't asked for ID at the door i was asked upon entering if i'd been asked for ID at the door. Most flattering. We walked up the stairs and i became engaged in a clumsy conversation with the ticket girl where i attempted to establish if i needed to hand over one ticket or two ( we'd received a bonus ticket, y'see ). The girl stared at me uncomprehending and i just surrendered both tickets. Keeping it real. We were then greeted by a delightful woman in black leather who directed us to the "change room', which was little more than a mezzanine overlooking one of the rooms, where we commenced getting changed; me into red pants and Damo's black string vest, Eloise into underwear with Neil's scarf around her waist and accessorised with GK's blue furry boots and silver scarf fetchingly round her neck. A few issues ensued with elastic and the boots and i brought my knot untangling skills, cultivated during oh so many unsuccesful fishing trips of my youth, into play. The knots undone, the boots restrung, we looked out over the room not unlike Jesus on the mountain with El Diablo, apprising himself of the world that could one day be all his. Bad call, JC, bad call ..
We "dropped" soon after and went exploring. The night in these early hours was not unlike any night out. We danced with some of the couples we'd met earlier, chatted and considered, like others, what might lie ahead. I was struck by how easy, and this is uncommon for me, it was to make eye contact and smile. At one stage, while dancing, i smiled at yet another older woman in a red dress and she smiled back. She turned to talk to her partner and i, a little too excitedly, leant over to Eloise and said, " I just made eye contact with that older chick over there. She just smiled at me, that older chick." Eloise, who until then had been luxuriating under the gaze of passing men and woman ( Punters were walking past, freezing in appreciation and stumbling onwards ) simply smiled and allowed me to indulge what seemingly will remain an ongoing preoccupation of mine.
I should say that in spite of the previous references to older women, we were both surprised by the youth of the throng. Most were plenty ripped and they well outnumbered the "wrinklies."
There are many episodes that will out either here or later but allow me to expand on one in particular. We were dancing up the front with Amanda and Les, lapping up the stage shows including one by the Hellfire Club afficionados ( There's your word, Neil ) that left our already well wide eyes much wider.
Eloise had been dancing with a guy named Matt who she introduced to me only to see his partner return and pull him away by the chain that dangled from his neck. He had apparently been a naughty boy.
Shortly after, Eloise began talking to a guy in a gladiator skirt ( if that's the word ). I was in the vicinity but not privy to what from all accounts was simply an exercise in mutual idle flattery. They wandered over the short distance to me and he introduced himself. I could not understand a word he said and thought he was either Russian or so geared that his mouth could not keep up with his brain. Turned out he was neither but was Italian and his name was Gigi, short for Gigliamo or some such. He explained, or at least i think he explained as i was pretty much just working off facial expressions and the scene and filling in the blanks, that he and his wife were attending with a group of friends and she was off dancing with one of the collective. He introduced us to some of them and then produced his mobile phone which he folded out into some sort of personal organiser, complete with pen, and asked us to enter our details in. We managed this eventually in a mongo fashion. His wife had by then returned. She had plenty of time. We had issues with that damn phone. Gigi introduced her as Elvie, short for Elvira. Vrooom, vrooooom. Well into it by now, i wrapped her shoulders in one of my arms and the four of us compared notes. A few minutes pleasantly passed and she said," I can't believe i'm here in the arms of another man right in front of my husband." I, as always, attracted to the smart ones was immediately taken with her powers of observation and expression. Eloise was equally taken with Gigi and his Lothario ways but we managed to wander off to go back and dance with Amanda and Les.
Lest you all think this is a little tawdry and you need to lock up your daughters, ( Yes, this is too tawdry, i hear you cry ) i can reassure you.Too tawdry ? Not the case, well, at least not the entire case. Our conversations on the night ranged widely but there were plenty that revolved around feeling rather than sensuality. At one stage we were earnestly discussing soulmates with Gigi. This sort of juxtaposition added to the night.
So we were dancing again with Amanda and Les. It was by now around 2am and we were thinking we should go about solidifying our intentions for after the show. On the lowest of the tiered viewing platforms overlooking the dance floor Eloise and i discussed whether we should go off with Gigi, Elvie et al ( we had been extended an invite earlier ) or put it on Amanda and Les. We decided we'd angle in with them and back ourselves with Gigi and Elvie for some other night. Cocky as all hell we were by this stage but we still had to close the deal.
We headed back down and got into a conga line of sorts with Amanda and Les which eventually brought us face to face. " What are you guys doing after the show?" Eloise asked and Les replied,"We're keeping our options open." " Do you wanna keep your options open with us ?" I said and he knodded, looked to Amanda, said,"Yes," and smiled. Deal closed. Go Team ! Go with the flow, back yourselves, the Universe will provide.
And back to dancing. Just dancing. For the majority of couples it didn't really extend beyond that at the Ball with the exception of a few adventurous souls who took advantage of some dark corners in the "change room." Just before closing i saw Elvie leaving the dance floor and ever the opportunists Eloise and I hurried after her. It turned out she wasn't leaving just yet and we mentioned we'd be keen to meet up at some stage. She explained she'd had a crazy night, we agreed, and held a brief conversation like one you might hold on any night out. This combination of the crazy and everyday/night really made an impression on us. She left us with a big smile and an agreement to be in touch and, you guessed it, back we went to Amanda and Les to finish of with some quality bouncy dancing that had been a long time coming.
When the pin was finally pulled the four of us went to uncloak. We managed this with only a minimum of fuss. Just as we left the cloak room there they were again, Gigi and Elvie. This time i mentioned to Gigi we'd be keen to go out some time ( can you tell we were keen ? ) and we held another of those conversations that made me long to speak to him on a crackly long distance phoneline just for the clarity. While we talked Elvie came up behind me and gave me a backrub that really worked, no really. We made our farewells and commenced getting ourselves repsectable for the walk back to the Lany with Amanda and Les. Only last night we got a SMS from G & E ( I'm over typing these names. How do authors cope ?) so we have been busily patting our instincts on the back for coming through on the night. When we got ourselves as respectable as we were going to get, we paused or at least i think we should've paused momentarily to check all was good. And we saw that it was. Then, after we decided not to accept an invite from another couple ( When it rains, it pours ) we were off arm in arm.
I think we'll be needing credit card details to continue dealing with the antics that occupied us until we got home at 8.30 the next night ...
Here ends our candid take, Parte the Firste. Be alert not alarmed. It was a hell of an adventure for us and after writing at least part of it down it occurs to me that it feels a little like we are characters in a novel or at least characters in a Penthouse Forum letter, maybe a bit of both. The unifying effect of fiction perhaps would make something "toight" of this all. "Write that down." ( That's another Van Wilder line ).
Before I launch into a brief description of the weekend TRHE and I just enjoyed can i just say i like the ute line. I don't do cars; Eloise has to show me where to check the oil. I do like the car metaphor. So, let's get this story off the blocks and revving.
We had arranged to meet some people at 7pm ( God bless Internet ) at The Century ( Damo, you know The Century. On George above Hungry Jacks. Old School. No pokies ). Y'know, just for preliminary drinks, meet n greet and to rein in our bucking anticipation. And it worked. Within seconds of our arrival we were centred, Saul on the road to Damascus style, and why not when we were greeted by a group of what we very quickly discovered were "our" people, all real, for want of what i am sure is a much better word, and personable. One couple in particular. Here i have to admit i was quite taken with the appearance of a 48 year old Swedish artist named Veronique, who has pictures hanging in the National Gallery apparently. She did have the misforturne of being accompanied by the one genuinely ugly person we met on the entire night. A redneck from the country who, although only in our company for an hour, managed to embarrass her numerous times with his redneck utterances. When this happened her lips would curl upwards, dragging her cheeks askew with them, and she would drop her gaze towards the floor .. and then she'd be over it. She also had on gun jewellery. A little later on we were fortunate enough to see the jewellery up close and unhindered by clothing. By then her slightly drunk self was draped over me and she was repeating, quite unnecessarily i thought, the words, " I'm just holding myself up." Of the other couples at the Pub, three were from Canberra. One of them knew you, Neil .. just joking. One couple we took a particular liking to consisted of Amanda, a pagan electrician from Lismore with blue streaks in her hair, who'd flown in for the night. Later, much later, in fact the following day, while heading for coffee and yoghurt ( I have become a big fan of yoghurt post going ) I inspected her hands and commented," You have good nails for an electrician. Do you do any work?" Shortly after Eloise and I took a hand of hers each and we skipped down Bourke Street, over Oxford Street and forgot to turn left to angle for coffee. But we made it eventually. You may have noticed that Les, who was quite the picture of Inner West cool and the male half of this couple was not with us by then. He had retired home at 7ish but what the hell has happened to the continuity here, sucker? Weren't we at the Pub a minute ago?
Indeed. But before we'd arrived at The Century we had stopped briefly at McDonalds for sustenance and speculative people watching. We concluded that one older guy, in leather pants and with metallic plugs in his ears, must have been attending the Ball. After placing his big, black bag and umbrella down (and it was a dry night!) he went to take a seat. This ordinarily simple motor skill was complicated by whatever he had on under the leather pants because he sat down as if he was in calipers. Another woman nearby was in a red skirt and black top. It was rather a conventional looking skirt but the colour got us thinking. Later, much later, in fact in a time and place where our heads were steeplechasing water jumps and burning hurdles, i saw her again and pointed out to Eloise that the skirt must have had patches and where the patches had been were a pair of shapely buttocks protruding. The black top was nowhere to be seen. Remember that when you're next having a cheeseburger. But we still haven't left the Pub !
So, we finally left the pub and walked the short distance to The Metro, of all places, where the ball was being held. Although I wasn't asked for ID at the door i was asked upon entering if i'd been asked for ID at the door. Most flattering. We walked up the stairs and i became engaged in a clumsy conversation with the ticket girl where i attempted to establish if i needed to hand over one ticket or two ( we'd received a bonus ticket, y'see ). The girl stared at me uncomprehending and i just surrendered both tickets. Keeping it real. We were then greeted by a delightful woman in black leather who directed us to the "change room', which was little more than a mezzanine overlooking one of the rooms, where we commenced getting changed; me into red pants and Damo's black string vest, Eloise into underwear with Neil's scarf around her waist and accessorised with GK's blue furry boots and silver scarf fetchingly round her neck. A few issues ensued with elastic and the boots and i brought my knot untangling skills, cultivated during oh so many unsuccesful fishing trips of my youth, into play. The knots undone, the boots restrung, we looked out over the room not unlike Jesus on the mountain with El Diablo, apprising himself of the world that could one day be all his. Bad call, JC, bad call ..
We "dropped" soon after and went exploring. The night in these early hours was not unlike any night out. We danced with some of the couples we'd met earlier, chatted and considered, like others, what might lie ahead. I was struck by how easy, and this is uncommon for me, it was to make eye contact and smile. At one stage, while dancing, i smiled at yet another older woman in a red dress and she smiled back. She turned to talk to her partner and i, a little too excitedly, leant over to Eloise and said, " I just made eye contact with that older chick over there. She just smiled at me, that older chick." Eloise, who until then had been luxuriating under the gaze of passing men and woman ( Punters were walking past, freezing in appreciation and stumbling onwards ) simply smiled and allowed me to indulge what seemingly will remain an ongoing preoccupation of mine.
I should say that in spite of the previous references to older women, we were both surprised by the youth of the throng. Most were plenty ripped and they well outnumbered the "wrinklies."
There are many episodes that will out either here or later but allow me to expand on one in particular. We were dancing up the front with Amanda and Les, lapping up the stage shows including one by the Hellfire Club afficionados ( There's your word, Neil ) that left our already well wide eyes much wider.
Eloise had been dancing with a guy named Matt who she introduced to me only to see his partner return and pull him away by the chain that dangled from his neck. He had apparently been a naughty boy.
Shortly after, Eloise began talking to a guy in a gladiator skirt ( if that's the word ). I was in the vicinity but not privy to what from all accounts was simply an exercise in mutual idle flattery. They wandered over the short distance to me and he introduced himself. I could not understand a word he said and thought he was either Russian or so geared that his mouth could not keep up with his brain. Turned out he was neither but was Italian and his name was Gigi, short for Gigliamo or some such. He explained, or at least i think he explained as i was pretty much just working off facial expressions and the scene and filling in the blanks, that he and his wife were attending with a group of friends and she was off dancing with one of the collective. He introduced us to some of them and then produced his mobile phone which he folded out into some sort of personal organiser, complete with pen, and asked us to enter our details in. We managed this eventually in a mongo fashion. His wife had by then returned. She had plenty of time. We had issues with that damn phone. Gigi introduced her as Elvie, short for Elvira. Vrooom, vrooooom. Well into it by now, i wrapped her shoulders in one of my arms and the four of us compared notes. A few minutes pleasantly passed and she said," I can't believe i'm here in the arms of another man right in front of my husband." I, as always, attracted to the smart ones was immediately taken with her powers of observation and expression. Eloise was equally taken with Gigi and his Lothario ways but we managed to wander off to go back and dance with Amanda and Les.
Lest you all think this is a little tawdry and you need to lock up your daughters, ( Yes, this is too tawdry, i hear you cry ) i can reassure you.Too tawdry ? Not the case, well, at least not the entire case. Our conversations on the night ranged widely but there were plenty that revolved around feeling rather than sensuality. At one stage we were earnestly discussing soulmates with Gigi. This sort of juxtaposition added to the night.
So we were dancing again with Amanda and Les. It was by now around 2am and we were thinking we should go about solidifying our intentions for after the show. On the lowest of the tiered viewing platforms overlooking the dance floor Eloise and i discussed whether we should go off with Gigi, Elvie et al ( we had been extended an invite earlier ) or put it on Amanda and Les. We decided we'd angle in with them and back ourselves with Gigi and Elvie for some other night. Cocky as all hell we were by this stage but we still had to close the deal.
We headed back down and got into a conga line of sorts with Amanda and Les which eventually brought us face to face. " What are you guys doing after the show?" Eloise asked and Les replied,"We're keeping our options open." " Do you wanna keep your options open with us ?" I said and he knodded, looked to Amanda, said,"Yes," and smiled. Deal closed. Go Team ! Go with the flow, back yourselves, the Universe will provide.
And back to dancing. Just dancing. For the majority of couples it didn't really extend beyond that at the Ball with the exception of a few adventurous souls who took advantage of some dark corners in the "change room." Just before closing i saw Elvie leaving the dance floor and ever the opportunists Eloise and I hurried after her. It turned out she wasn't leaving just yet and we mentioned we'd be keen to meet up at some stage. She explained she'd had a crazy night, we agreed, and held a brief conversation like one you might hold on any night out. This combination of the crazy and everyday/night really made an impression on us. She left us with a big smile and an agreement to be in touch and, you guessed it, back we went to Amanda and Les to finish of with some quality bouncy dancing that had been a long time coming.
When the pin was finally pulled the four of us went to uncloak. We managed this with only a minimum of fuss. Just as we left the cloak room there they were again, Gigi and Elvie. This time i mentioned to Gigi we'd be keen to go out some time ( can you tell we were keen ? ) and we held another of those conversations that made me long to speak to him on a crackly long distance phoneline just for the clarity. While we talked Elvie came up behind me and gave me a backrub that really worked, no really. We made our farewells and commenced getting ourselves repsectable for the walk back to the Lany with Amanda and Les. Only last night we got a SMS from G & E ( I'm over typing these names. How do authors cope ?) so we have been busily patting our instincts on the back for coming through on the night. When we got ourselves as respectable as we were going to get, we paused or at least i think we should've paused momentarily to check all was good. And we saw that it was. Then, after we decided not to accept an invite from another couple ( When it rains, it pours ) we were off arm in arm.
I think we'll be needing credit card details to continue dealing with the antics that occupied us until we got home at 8.30 the next night ...
Here ends our candid take, Parte the Firste. Be alert not alarmed. It was a hell of an adventure for us and after writing at least part of it down it occurs to me that it feels a little like we are characters in a novel or at least characters in a Penthouse Forum letter, maybe a bit of both. The unifying effect of fiction perhaps would make something "toight" of this all. "Write that down." ( That's another Van Wilder line ).
