Last Thursday I had a truly a horrible day at work which involved me spending 6 consecutive hours photocopying like a crazed secretary on a cocaine binge, at one point I had to fight off another would be photocopier who took issue with me using 3 machines at once. The poor guy probably didn’t deserve the verbal abuse I spewed at him but unfortunately at that point I was 4 hours into my photocopying session having only eaten a packet of butter menthols since dinner the previous night and nothing short of a priest wielding a crucifix and holy water could calm me down.
Needless to say when I finally returned home that evening I was definitely not in the mood to go out, and the bitterly cold Melbourne night was doing nothing to change my mind. Alas I had no real choice on this particular evening, it was the final night of ‘Q&A’ (‘Queer and Alternative’ night at ‘A Bar Called Barry’ in Collingwood) and I had promised friends I would be in attendance for one final night of alcohol flavoured antics.
I approached the venue only to be greeted by a line that was 10 people wide with a tail stretching farther than MY eyes could see: which is almost 'as far as the eye can see'. Needless to say I laughed quietly to myself, turned around and started looking for a taxi to take me home. I don’t do lines.
Then my phone rang, it was my friend Paul. In his infinite wisdom he had scoured the line for people he knew and squirmed his way in with them, effectively bypassing the majority of the crowd. Then through a series of tactical manoeuvres he managed to find other people even closer to the front and join them, eventually positioning himself mere steps away from the entry, very impressive.
I crossed the road and approached the sea of writhing homosexuals anxiously, despite having Paul directing me over the phone I could not see him through the crowds. Then suddenly- like a frog’s tongue snatching a fly from mid air Paul’s arm shot out of the masses and pulled me into the crowd. As I regained my orientation I quickly realised how much of the line I had actually skipped, let’s just say that the brief time I spent waiting in line with my face crammed into the back of bad polyester wig was a sinch compared to the marathon the poor fools behind me had to endure.
Finally inside I cloaked my jacket. Then it began, my Q&A ritual, the battle of the voices in my head.
Needless to say when I finally returned home that evening I was definitely not in the mood to go out, and the bitterly cold Melbourne night was doing nothing to change my mind. Alas I had no real choice on this particular evening, it was the final night of ‘Q&A’ (‘Queer and Alternative’ night at ‘A Bar Called Barry’ in Collingwood) and I had promised friends I would be in attendance for one final night of alcohol flavoured antics.
I approached the venue only to be greeted by a line that was 10 people wide with a tail stretching farther than MY eyes could see: which is almost 'as far as the eye can see'. Needless to say I laughed quietly to myself, turned around and started looking for a taxi to take me home. I don’t do lines.
Then my phone rang, it was my friend Paul. In his infinite wisdom he had scoured the line for people he knew and squirmed his way in with them, effectively bypassing the majority of the crowd. Then through a series of tactical manoeuvres he managed to find other people even closer to the front and join them, eventually positioning himself mere steps away from the entry, very impressive.
I crossed the road and approached the sea of writhing homosexuals anxiously, despite having Paul directing me over the phone I could not see him through the crowds. Then suddenly- like a frog’s tongue snatching a fly from mid air Paul’s arm shot out of the masses and pulled me into the crowd. As I regained my orientation I quickly realised how much of the line I had actually skipped, let’s just say that the brief time I spent waiting in line with my face crammed into the back of bad polyester wig was a sinch compared to the marathon the poor fools behind me had to endure.
Finally inside I cloaked my jacket. Then it began, my Q&A ritual, the battle of the voices in my head.
SNIDE MICHAEL: Look at all these pathetic people, desperately scouring the room looking for their next conquest. So glad we’re not like that.
SELF EFFACING MICHAEL: Whatever loser! You’re just jealous because no one here would look twice at any of us.
SNIDE MICHAEL: You may have a point. But at least we are smart and funny and can hold a conversation about something other than designer sunglasses.
SELF EFFACING MICHAEL: Are you forgetting that we have designer sunglasses? We’re such a hypocrite. And let us not forget that ‘conversation’ wont keep you warm at night.
MELODRAMATIC MICHAEL: Yeah! Who is going to want a skinny white guy with braces and glasses? We’re going to be alone forever. FOREVER!
SNIDE MICHAEL: … *rolls eyes*
CALCULATING MICHAEL: Get it together everyone! Smile. Laugh at peoples jokes. Act confident. Hang around with your friends and try to seem as interesting as possible.
MELODRAMATIC MICHAEL: Aaargh!
SELF EFFACING MICHAEL: Why did we even come here?
BAD JUDGEMENT MICHAEL: Enough! Listen carefully. First go to the bar. Second order something dangerously alcoholic. Third, drink! Repeat these directions until I am the only voice you can hear.
Fast forward three Jager Bombs, a few beers and more mixed vodka concoctions then I care to remember and I’m heading home in a cab holding up my head with both hands, completely convinced that if I let go it would fall out the window to be lost forever on the Tullamarine freeway- leaving the cabdriver in quite the odd predicament.
It was a long night...
I made some new friends, fellow bloggers R*yan, D.U.P and Dave, who endured my bad dancing and drink stealing, shared a few laughs with some old friends who introduced me to the gay scene, I bumped into a blast from the past and served up some long overdue verbal abuse, witnessed some dramatic antics from drunken friends, met up with an old crush and flirted shamelessly, and thanks to the bad lighting in the venue I kissed a cute guy who is completely out of my league.
An uterly chaotic night. The perfect final chapter for Q&A.
The role of 'Michael' in this story will be played by... this guy from Heroes who's name I dont know, but it doesn't matter because he is insanely attractive, and I'm madly in love with him, take another look-- he is painfully good looking. Yes- I know how gay that sounds, no- I'm not embarrased to admit that I'm obsessed with this photo, yes I will stop rambling now.
8 comments:
Out of your league?? That's complete BS... you are TOTALLY in the same league as him... and that's a good thing. Believe me.
xx
i like "peter petrelli", too.
you obviously have *great* taste. ;)
xx
Why didnt you kiss me?
Why didnt you kiss me?
The last night at Q&A sounds like it was a blast! I have enjoyed reading of the nights adventures on a few posts now.
I agree, the guy who played Peter Petrelli is very handsome...
I think BAD JUDGEMENT MICHAEL starred that night! Vivian was quite impressed!
I'm sure he was totally in your league! Sounds like the perfect end to a photocopying extravaganza.
It was an awesome night nice talking to ya while u was able to talk it was sooo packed out. it was my first time there and my last also. alll i really can say about to some up the night was WOW.
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