Road trippin' Doujicon- pt2 (Cock of Doom)

We stayed on Fitzroy St, St Kilda. When we checked in I was told that we had a 4 person room which consisted of a double bed and two bunks. Dan was with me and said
“That’ll be fine I’ll share with Sarah”
“Um, yes, can we get something with four beds?”
Tap tap tap
“Yes Mr Selan, we have a room with a double and 3 bunks”

Benzine was staying with his brother but “just in case Benzin can stay with us and I can share with Sarah”
“I’m sure Benzin will be touched at your graciousness Dan”

Unpacked and freshened up.

We hit the city by way of the tram, which entailed us trying to figure when to get off and how to buy tickets. Benzin had organized with his brother to catch up, so it was just the 4 of us.

I’ve been to Melbourne once/twice/thrice, I can’t remember – it seemed really familiar.

We did find minotaurs and discovered their policy of shrinkwrapping their trades. There were a couple of art/design books I was interested in but sight unseen means no sale.

We wondered around – Dan had reorganized the night because of the missed happy hour. Years back, Dan used to travel the country putting on Skate shows and making videos. So he knows skaters everywhere – so after a very average dinner we went to a nice hip hop club on Elizabeth st. Wall to wall couches and a very good mix of east coast hip hop. We met people and drank beer. Owen stopped at two beers which made things difficult because a jug did 5 glasses, so we’d always have a spare glass. There were no highlights of the club except that it was all good. We moved onto a small little pub, St Jerome which seemed to be a gated alleyway with a tarp for a roof. It had an opium den and $6 coopers long necks. I had lost the feeling in my face so I went a stubby. The pub essentially allowed you to stand around pressed against other people; which is nice when you are drunk. Dan and his mate wrestled for their beer and promptly smashed the bottle. I tried to go down some steps but was a foot too much to the left and stumbled into a gaggle of girls “sprechen zie deutsch baby?” Ah good times. Good times.

Intermittently, I had been texting Doug Holgate to catch up. We had been msning daily for years but never met. It was slightly gay.

The gang decided to pull the pin and leave St Jerome, not after forcing me to skull half a long neck. I believe this was a ploy to use me as a battering ram to follow as I forced my way out of the pub to spew.

I didn’t spew but burped loudly a lot which was quite embarrassing with the 20 people lined outside. ‘Habla englesh, baby?”

I finally met Doug after a number of calls; the bearded one bounded up and Viking hugs were had. We trundled to karaoke club which had a massive line up so we went to Pony, another cool place. Kind of empty but not too empty that you can’t ‘bump’ into anyone and chat. My memory of the night gets dim around here. I believe we made fun of Owen’s polar fleece top but that’s an assumption more than a recollection. Doug noted he had been at the Pony earlier on a blind date. This date apparently went well. As it was only 11:30pm it couldn’t have been that great a date, but I suspect any date Doug has that doesn’t end in a bar fight is a good one. He looked really cute in his bowtie. Owen noted he expected Doug to be more of a curmudgeon. Doug told him to fuck off and then pissed on his shoes.

We all stumbled out around 2 after drinking since about 9 which is pretty fair. Goodbyes were said and taxis were hailed.

Back in our room, I had a shower since we only had 50L of hotwater and would take 40 minutes to heat another batch. Dan kindly offered to shower with Jing to make it faster in the morning. Its all about the giving with that one. By the time I showered everyone had gone to sleep so I climbed to my bunk and nestled in. It was only once we were all quiet I realized how loud it was outside, the street with hoon cruisers, the line up for the club 3 doors down, the buskers, the endless renditions of House of Pains’ “Jump around” coming from the apartment across the street. The shower had woken me up and generally I don’t sleep well when I’m drunk either (because i think ‘hey, I’m still up I could be out having fun’). The other complication was that the bunk squeaked. I usually twist and turn (I used to toss and turn but then I gots me a girlfriend - agagagaga) for a bit to get comfortable, I couldn’t do this without shaking the whole bunk.

Lying there uncomfortably, I soon became anxious with thoughts of
“oh now I’m only going to get 5 hours sleep”
“oh damn only 4 hours to 7am, I’m going to be stuffed”
“oh shit its 4am, I’m rooted”
At this point I went to the toilet and fashioned ear plugs out of toilet paper. They didn’t help.
“oh fuck, you’ve got 2 hours of sleep time”
“oh fuck sake - sleep you fucking wanker – sleep”

And at 7 I got out of bed. Got dressed and started walking. Living in my nice suburb, I’m not used to the din of the city anymore. Please make this clear, it was not Dan strutting around nude that caused my sleepless night.