I've been 18 for a week now. Really, very little has changed in this short span of time. I go around bragging about it occasionally, I feel an aura of superiority around me (though I believe I always had that) and my passport photo looks very out of date, but other than that, not much new.
So of course, the best way to remedy this is with a night in Melbourne. A night where I essentially made an ass of myself, but t'was all in good fun.
I suppose it couldn't have been that bad; I didn't drink too much, and I woke up at 10 AM this morning devoid of any kind of hangover, but perhaps I'm almighty and immune to such things. Starting now, I'll claim that I am.
Anyway, we got to the city at about 8 PM, and already I showed my unique nature by being the only one out of my crew not to jaywalk at every crossing. The little red man told me not to walk, so wait there I did.
So we didn't get to our first bar until about 8:30. As per usual, I refused to play pool (I don't play pool in public, people might suspect me of being very bad, which is true), and instead just sat quietly waiting for my chums to buy me drinks. Hey, it was my birthday, I wanted to be a freeloader.
It started with bourbon. In my (now) expert opinion, bourbon tastes worse the more you drink it. Regardless, I downed two of those one after the other, but made sure to keep track of how much I was drinking through reminders on my phone. I have no idea why I had the foresight that night to keep track of things, but Phil declared me the most organised drunk he's ever met.
After bourbon #2 (immediately after, of course), it was onto the beers. Halfway through the first beer I was starting to sway, and I'm mighty disappointed. I wanted to have the reputation that I could drink anyone under the table. I couldn't get drunk yet!!
My motor functions were inhibited, but I was still thinking clear, rational thoughts. I decided that as long as I remembered the Japanese phrase I was currently learning; 'ego ga hanasemasu ka', I was still sober. Funnily enough, I never did forget that phrase all throughout the night.
It was after my second beer (a pitiful tally of four drinks) that I made a reminder in my phone that I was drunk. The most obvious indication that I was drunk was that I had been playing pool for several minutes without even knowing it. Needless to say, I was not winning.
9:43 PM, I wasn't quite sure what the difference was between pool and volleyball, but I triumphantly downed one ball, which meant I didn't have to drop my pants and run around the table. See? I was a winner already.
And for my winning efforts, I would be rewarded with bourbon #3 and a vodka. Tragically, that was the last that I would be drinking that night.
After downing both drinks, I couldn't quite figure out where my posse had gone off to, so I just waited out the front of the bar in the pouring rain for a little while, because it seemed like a good idea. A fight broke out nearby, and I just chuckled and pointed in a drunken stupor. They didn't seem to like that much, but fortunately at 10:23 Dom appeared out of nowhere and lead me to where everyone else had gone. Just next door to the strip joint, of course.
Yeah, I went to a strip joint. I'm just as classless as anyone else. Honestly though, I could hardly tell I was there. I had to get Dom to fork out the $10 entrance fee from my wallet to get me in, and I stumbled up the stairs and sat down in front of the stage where ladies were undressing themselves for purposes of local arousal and entertainment.
I can't believe how much it didn't interest me at the time. I mean, I was at a strip joint, I was supposed to be having a ball! I wasn't bored or anything, but I could hardly tell what the young lasses were doing. I just clapped like a stooge and occasionally shouted 'yaaaaaaaay!!'
By this point, one of the strippers who wasn't working the stage at the time walked up with a jug in her hand filled with cash and, in a kind voice, she asked me for money.
I don't have much experience in the field of dealing with strippers, particularly while inebriated, so I legitimately thought I had to give her money because she asked me.
'I've only got twenties and fifties,' I told her, in what may have been the least wise statement to make to a stripper.
'Give me a twenty and I'll give you ten change,' she offered.
At this point, I thought, what a bargain!! I whipped out a twenty and got two fives in exchange. She kissed me on the cheek and walked away. Alas, only now do I realise that the bargain price of $10 was paying for... well, nothing, really. I guess it made me seem more polite?
Regardless, I had to take a whiz. My bladder was filled to the brim and I needed to make room for more alcohol, so I walked up to another stripper to ask for directions to the toilet.
Now, let me stop right there. It was a very small strip joint, it only would've taken two minutes to find the toilet. Additionally, I could've asked any random dude standing around, but no. I had to ask one of the strippers for directions.
'Excuse me miss,' I said, trying my best to appear slightly intellectual, 'Can you tell me where the toilet is?'
'Yes,' she replied with a sly smile on her face, 'But first, won't you give me a tip?'
I thought hard on this one. Hadn't I already done this before? I wasn't going to fall for this again...
'I've only got fifty cents,' I claimed, 'I reckon it'd be kind of cheap if I only gave you fifty cents.'
'Yeah it would,' she said, pouting, 'Are you sure you've only got fifty cents?'
'Naaaah,' I admitted. I couldn't lie to this wonderful stripper anymore. She was my friend now, right?
She looked at me for a couple seconds, before stating, 'You're a really nice guy, you're so innocent. You've got childish eyes...'
'Well I only turned 18 recently!' I blurted, and to that she smiled and I was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek. That sold me. I had to give her money.
'I tell you what,' I said, reaching into my wallet, 'I won't remember this in the morning, so I'll just give you $20.'
She accepted my generous offer, and in retrospect, it might've been a $50 bill. I only assumed it was a twenty because I said it was, and it felt suspiciously similar to $20. The fact that all dollar bills feel the same was irrelevant.
In any event, she pointed me in the direction of the toilets. I grabbed her by the shoulders, smiled a big smile and said,
'I wish you the best luck and hope everything works out for you. You have a wonderful night.'
I stumbled to the toilet, looked in the mirror, then at my friend Luke who was nearby. Sadness in my voice, I stated the fear that was surfacing in me;
'Luke... I think that stripper just robbed me.'
After this, Luke took my wallet away from me, I headbutted an SUV and we went to Crown casino. I shouted to various passers-by how I had just spent $20 on directions, proceeded to lick Luke's cheek while he was playing roulette, and was kindly asked if I could leave the casino. I did without question, and we went to KFC where I threw chicken bones around and ate a tub of potatoes and gravy that somebody else had left on their table.
On the negative side, I have no idea who had left the potatoes in question and what they might've been doing to it beforehand, but on the plus side, those were some damn good potatoes.
By 3 AM we found our way back to Melton, where I spent the night in Dom's mother's bed. No, she wasn't home at the time, but I had quite an interesting dream where I got killed and was reborn as some bizarre, Matrix-ripoff dude who could jump long distances and would have to save Disneyland. And yes, in my dream... I did pick up. So at least I had picked up in some random capacity in my little adventure.
The moral of today's tale? It's better to be a poor drunk than a rich drunk. Even people I didn't know on the bus home were laughing about how I got ripped off by a stripper, man.
And no, I'm not usually such a sleazy fellow, bouncing from bar to strip joint, but if you'd like to think I am, I'll accept your claims. After all, I've got my first day at university tomorrow and I don't think that'll go too well, so it's obvious I'm none too bright.
I did learn that everything is a lot more amusing when you're drunk, though. It was the first time I had gotten drunk since 2002 (when I put a four-year ban on for getting suspended for drinking on school grounds), and apparently, I'm a lot of fun to be around when I'm blind.
...Next week, I hope that the stripper will give me a refund.
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