Saturday, 24 March 2012

(Day 17) Post St Patrick’s Day

Sunday 18th March (Day 17) 

I woke up in a pretty foul mood today after last night’s antics.  Last night I did actually phone the police regarding my phone because I was so pissed off.  I didn’t phone the emergency number of course, just the number for the local station.  I had never lost my phone or been kicked out of a club before and I suppose the combination of the 2 happening in one night at the same place made me feel overwhelmed and I wanted some advice from the police. 

The officer I spoke to asked me for a description of the bouncer and the woman who kicked me out and then he contacted the club himself.  I contacted him 10 minutes later and he said he spoke to the night manager (who was that bitchy woman) and she said the reason I was kicked out was due to intoxication.  She didn’t say anything regarding my missing phone though because I suppose she didn’t really give a shit.

The officer said that I should go to the club tomorrow to see if the phone had been handed in and if not go to the local police station and report it as missing.  This was sort of obvious advice and I suppose I didn’t really need to phone the police, but in fairness the officer said I had done the right thing by phoning them and not trying to approach the club again that night.
By the way if you are wondering how I was making all these phone calls; I was using a spare phone I had bought to make long distance calls back to England.

Anyway I headed off to the Kings X first thing that morning.  I was all piss and vinegar and I had it in my mind that I was going to storm in, demand to see the manager and shout at them.  I arrived and spoke to some guy at the bar; I said I needed to see the manager regarding an incident last night etc.  He said the manager was out on his lunch so I told him the story about last night instead.  He was a very nice and friendly guy who was very understanding and after talking to him the anger I had built up had gone.  Another bar guy overheard us talking and said he was working last night and picked up a phone on the 3rd floor (the floor I lost the phone on).  He said he would get it but he warned me that he found it smashed all over the floor.
Whilst he went to get my phone I got a drink from the bar, I got my wallet out to pay for it but the guy said I didn’t have to pay for this one.  The other guy came back with a box that was full of different parts of a phone (which was my phone).  Even the sim card had fallen out.  I wasn’t too worried about my phone though, I have been using sellotape to hold it together for years.  I slotted all the parts back together and pressed the power button.  The phone turned on fine with no problems.  The guy behind the bar said I could still follow up with a complaint about the night manager and stuff but after getting my phone back I wasn’t angry anymore.  I was just glad to get my phone back.

Really I have learnt that the tolerance towards alcohol is different here.  By law if someone is caught serving alcohol to an intoxicated person they risks fines and losing their license.  It is just not acceptable to be drunk in a public place here; tipsy yes but full on drunkenness is forbidden.  I even read this before I came out but I guess I forgot.  In future I will be watching more what I drink now before a night out. 

My phone <3

It has shoe prints all over it, the case is bent out of shape also

Friday, 23 March 2012

(Day 16) St Patrick's Day

Tonight was the real St Patrick’s Day night out.  I don’t know anything about St Patrick like who he was or why he is celebrated.  But I think if he was alive today and saw what people where doing on the day named after him I think he would be shocked.  Everyone just drinks so much and gets fucked out of their faces.  Is that what St Patrick did?  Is he remembered because he was the first person who discovered you could mix vodka and redbull or the first person to down a pint in less than a second?  I personally don’t know but I doubt it.  I am just trying to say that I believe the true meaning of St Patrick’s Day was lost a long time ago, drowned in a sea of Guinness and vomit.

St Patrick

Is this how we remember him?

And now I am going to talk about how drunk I got and sound like a massive hypocrite.

So basically I live with a guy who works at a shop that sells alcohol and he very generously brought a lot of alcohol and made the whole house a punch.  We are not talking about a small punch in a bowl but a punch that filled a 30 litre plastic box.  The best thing about this punch was it tasted fruity and didn’t taste strong, oh but it was. 

I really didn’t realize how drunk I was until much later on.  We were all sat around the ping pong table trying to play ring of fire which is usually a great drinking game but everyone was so drunk that we all kept forgetting the rules.

After finishing off the 30 litre punch we headed off to the city.  We got into a club quickly and had a few drinks there.  It was pretty good at first but after my second drink I started feeling unwell, not sick but like something wasn’t right.  I went to the bathroom and saw that my face was bright red, I don’t know what caused it but I was having a reaction to something.  I could just feel my face burning up.

We moved onto the next bar called Star Bar but I wasn’t allowed in.  I got collared by one of the bouncers whilst queuing up to get in, he had one look at me and said no.  I felt terrible because everyone else could get in ok and I felt like I was letting the group down.  I tried talking my way in to some manager woman who was outside but she was being a bitch to me.  She was just saying I was drunk and not articulating properly.  I was speaking fine, although at some points I thought I was speaking to 3 of her.

After being rejected we headed off to another club, can you guess which club? 
Yes, the Kings X hotel.  For a big city with lots of clubs I always seem to end up at this place for some reason.  I got in okay and thought that I could finally relax and have a good time but no.  What happened was I lost my phone on one of the dance floors.  I think I was attempting to poll dance and it came out of my pocket.  I knew I dropped it and that it hadn’t been stolen because I found the keypad on the floor.  My phone must have broke apart on hitting the floor and separated into pieces but I couldn’t see any of the pieces.  

The trail ends here.

I tried ringing it off a housemate’s phone but nothing lit up on the floor.  I asked the bar staff if it had been handed in but they were not helpful at all, they just asked if I wanted a drink.  Of course I don’t want a drink; I am trying to find my sodding phone.  I asked a bouncer and he said I should go downstairs and ask the bouncers by the door so I did that and they said I should wait there until the manager comes.  So I did this for a bit until some biggish woman came storming up to me and said I needed to go outside.  At first I thought “oh good, my phone must be outside” but after the bouncer at the door gave me a push whilst I walked past him I noticed that no-one was outside waiting for me with my phone.  I had just been kicked out of the Kings X hotel.  The bouncer who pushed me was just stood there with his arms folded, the expression on his face read “fuck off”.
I was so angry about being kicked out.  

When I lost my phone I sobered up a lot (mentally at least).  The woman who came charging up to me, I didn’t know who she was, I hadn’t even spoken to her and she didn’t even bother speaking to me.  How did she know I was drunk, for the last 10 minutes I had just been doing exactly what I was told.  It seemed to me that I had a problem (missing phone) and they couldn’t be arsed dealing with it so they chucked me out to remove the problem. 

I was seriously unhappy whilst walking back to the house.  I had felt humiliated about being rejected and letting down the guys in the house and from being kicked out for no apparent reason and I was furious about the way the staff treated me.  I had it in my head that I was going to get my own back by write a scathing story about this night (which I am) and these places and cause them to lose so much business that they have to close.  But in reality I don’t yet have quite enough readers to cause the closure of a club.  Maybe I will have this power in a few months.

I could probably just write this night off as a story but I really need my phone.  I need that phone back so badly.  Without it I lose all my pictures, my new contacts and I am unable to get a job.  This really sucks to be honest and hopefully I will get it back tomorrow.


Happy St Patrick's Day

Images from
No copyright infringement intended.

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

(Day 14) Pre St Patrick's Day Night Out

Thursday 14th March (Day 14) 

Tonight was our St Patrick’s Day warm up night out.  The actual St Patrick’s Day night out was Saturday but we fancied a medium sized night out tonight.  We had some drinks in our back garden sat on our old sofas and armchairs around our outdoor table which is actually an old ping pong table.  We then headed off to a club in Sydney; the good thing about where we live is that most nightclubs seem to be within walking distance and after a few drinks that walking distance seems a lot shorter.

After paying to get in we had to walk up a few flights of stairs to get to the actual club, getting up these stairs was fine now but I could imagine getting down them towards the end of the night might be tricky.

I remember the club having 2 dance floors.  The main dance floor played various dance music and had a small stage area near the front.  The other dance floor was dark and gloomy but played indie music which I prefer but we actually spend very little time on this floor.
As a group we started talking to a lot of other people in the club which was great until they started talking to me.  About 90% of people I started speaking to immediately burst into laughter and said that I sounded like Harry Potter.  Maintaining a conversation with someone whilst they laugh at your every word is not really enjoyable.  Being told that you sound like some fictitious wizard kid is a bit humiliating to be honest.  To add insult to injury they started asking me to say Harry Potter quotes and asking me Harry Potter related questions.

Other people who annoyed me that night were a group of guys who jumped up on stage and took off their shirts and started prancing around showing off their well defined abdominal muscles.  Shallow guys like these irritate me greatly.

Despite being around girls who thought I was Harry Potter and vein guys who were in better shape than me I had a good night.  I had a good laugh with my new house mates and this was my first night out with them.

As for sounding like Harry Potter, I am terrible with putting on accents or changing the way I speak.  So what can I do?

Why Harry Potter, why not James Bond?

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

I have made it easy to leave a comment

I have been told that leaving comments is a pain because you have to sign in using some form of account that most people don't have.  Anyway I have changed some settings so now anyone can leave a comment.

So don't be shy, post a comment, ask me a question.  I am here all week and I would love to hear from you guys.

(Day 13) Bearings

Wednesday 14th March (day 13)

If you read my blog you will know that since arriving in Sydney I have gotten lost walking around the city on many occasions, and today was no exception.  I think I spent the majority of the day getting lost.  Just when I got to know Kings Cross (the area where the hostel was) I move to a new area, now I have to learn Surry Hills like I learnt Kings Cross.
I use the term lost a lot and maybe I am being a bit harsh on myself.  Perhaps I could use the term “unplanned exploration”, or “spontaneous wondering”.

Today I was doing my proper food shop; I had mainly got stuff for my room yesterday with only a small amount of food.  I decided to try and find the nearest supermarket that I originally attempted to find yesterday, I even took a map out with me and planned the journey before leaving but of course my urge to do unplanned exploration got the better of me and I was exploring areas that I had not intended to explore.  After one failed journey I went out again and finally found the wretched shop.

I was glad I didn’t spontaneously wonder on the way back because that would have been bad whilst carrying 2 heavy bags containing some frozen foods.  Putting food on the shelves in my room and in the fridge in the kitchen felt good.  I could actually survive in this house now.  Our fridge smells quite bad though; every time I go to open its door I know that there is a horrible smell waiting to jump out at me.  But it is nothing compared to the smell of the kitchen bin.  I have never smelt anything that bad in my life.  If I am ever hungry but I don’t want to cook I just open the bin for a second, the smell is enough to make even the most hungry of people not feel hungry anymore.

Monday, 19 March 2012

(Day 12) My Des Res (desirable residence)

Tuesday 13th March (Day 12) 

I didn’t sleep well last night, I woke up with the lungs of a 60 year old smoker and with the temper of my dreaded secondary school English teacher.  I was feeling bitter, ill and very hungry but I didn’t have any food in this house.  After getting some form of directions from one of my new housemates to the nearest shops I headed off only to get hopelessly lost.  When a person gives you direction to somewhere using their arms it seems really simple.  Yeah, the shops are just that way down George Street or whatever they called that damn road.  So I head off straight away in the direct they pointed thinking it is a straight journey to my destination but no, there is a bend in the road, followed by a fork, followed by a roundabout, and then another roundabout, and a bridge, and a u bend and then the road ends and you realize you’re in a field.  Of course I didn’t bring a map because I asked my flatmate for directions and it seems rude to ask for directions then to go get a map.

I ended up walking all over the city and it is amazing to see how the city looks different from different angles, I think the only angle I haven’t seen Sydney from is above or directly below.  I ended up walking into a place called Market City which you’d think would be a good place to find a super market but it really wasn’t.  It is one of those markets which is actually a proper market and not a super market.  One of these markets with all the little stalls where one would sell eight hundred different types of candles all made from organic wax from organic bees and scented with organic artificial chemicals.  A lot of the stalls were I think Japanese selling Japanese stuff, it was all very colourful with bright vivid contrasting colours on everything.  All in Japanese so I didn’t know what the hell they were selling.

I certainly didn't wake up with one of these.

I don't trust this guy.

I did also stumble across what I think was the financial district of Sydney.  Here the pavements were big slabs of dark grey slate and all the bollards and bins where made from galvanized steel.  Everyone around me was dressed in suits and had 2 blackberries in each hand and some bank notes shoved up their arses.  I must have looked so out of place.  I was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt (both haven’t been washed since I've arrived in Australia) and my face was red with exhaustion and sun burn.
I did finally stumble across a supermarket where I got most of the things I needed.  It wasn’t just food I needed in the house it also needed some accessories in my room such as a multi plug so I can use my laptop and a bin.

After I finally got back I finished sorting out my room by putting the bedding on the bed (which was finally dry now) sorting out the plugs and sticking a few photos and posters on the walls.  I had some food and then I could finally relax in a room was not only habitable but also felt like my room.  I wasn’t in some shady little closet full of dust and cockroaches.  I had cleared all of that out now and it felt like my room, and I liked it.

Not too bad.

About enough room to swing a mouse.