Crawling Home

Lets go on a pub crawl. Doesn't matter that my life is under intensive scrutiny. Doesn't matter that I tend to spill secrets when I'm drunk. Doesn't matter that I got a sneak peak of the team list, and discovered my win-on partner is now on my team. Hell, doesn't even matter that it's a Tuesday and its only dinnertime. Lets go drinking.

There are 3 teams, and the rules are simple.
Rule 1) Protect your team's lawn gnome. Attempt to steal or destroy the other teams' gnomes.
Rule 2) You must drink atleast one drink at each pub.
Rule 3) When a certain song is sung, everyone must chug the drink currently in their hands.
Rule 4) Everyone is given an Uno card necklace. If you find someone with a matching number, you are strongly encouraged to make out with him or her.
Rule 5) One girl per team per pub is given a rubbery squeaky dog toy. It is her mission to get a stranger to buy her a drink without revealing her goal.
Rule 6) The last person on the bus must wear girl panties on his or her head at the next pub.

We arrive at the first bar, and I decide to slowly nurse a rum and coke. Plenty of time, only 7pm, why rush? Slowly I finish it off, but I'm uncertain how much time we have left. I ask our team leader, who tells me we have 20 minutes left at this bar. I order another rum and coke. 30 seconds later, he announces that its time to go. I scowl, and skull the whole drink. Off to a good start.

Second bar, and a new goal. I'm going to be the American who breaks the other teams' gnomes. However, they seemed to have hidden it very well. Standing near the chew toy girl gives me a good vantage point to scope everyone out, as well as enjoy the show the girl is putting on. She succeeds with flying colors, but I find my mission in vain. The other teams are leaving for their next target. Drastic measures must be taken.

I grope everyone on their way out. At least, that's what I pretend. In reality, I'm looking for a hidden gnome. This strikes me as a likely first in recorded history.

Bar three, and a new drink. Rums, coronas, and smirnoff blacks are behind me. I've discovered scotch. Really, scotch is far too classy to be mixed with coke, but I'm not British enough to order scotch on the rocks.

I take to the dance floor in my finally inebriated state. For the first time since arriving in Australia, it did not result in me disassociating with Americans or hooking up with someone I later regret.

Normally, I dont like to use names in my blog. It's all very Dragnet. However, I must make an exception. This boy's name is Blake. Every boy named Blake I'd ever met, spoken to, heard or read about, has been gay. Blake is the quintessential twink name. And my booze goggles made him cute. This was in the bag.

I dont get the chance to make a move. Something [his friend] comes up. The boy is cuter, looks sluttier, is a great dancer, and wears rings that give off definate gay vibes. Why waste my time with Blake? I'll get the twink later.

Fourth bar. I've been here before. It's the Down Under Bar, where I first went with the other Americans. That must've also been a Tuesday night, because its Male Stripper Night again. Luckily, this time he's cute.

After enjoying the show with Blake's Friend, I go in for the kill. BUZZ!

"Everyone thinks I'm gay because I dance, but I'm not."

I dont have the heart to tell him that his dancing is the least of the reasons I questioned his heterosexuality. However, the boy is surprisingly gay-friendly. Considering I've added a few vodka tonics to my tally, I'm not surprised my whole story comes spilling out of my mouth. At the time, I believed I'd found a sympathetic ear; in retrospect, I was likely sowing the seeds of my own destruction.

I break away for another drink. It is at this point that I cross off a life goal from my to-do list.

In this very hetero bar (albeit, with a male stripper performing), a somewhat older but still cute guy is eyeing me. I look back. He smiles and seems to nod me over. I oblige.

Turns out I was completely right. He starts flirting and touching, toussling my hair. I play along because I'm an attention whore.

"I'm actually a flight attendant on international flights. I'm only here in Brisbane for 2 nights, then its back to Thailand. I'm staying at my friend's place, but he wont be home tonight so I have the place to myself..."

Picked up by a flight attendant. In a straight bar. That has to be worth something. However, momma must've taught me well. I dont go home with him. However, I still count it as a win. The sex is not nearly as important as the ego boost, and I'd already got what I'd come for, without ever coming.

Really though, you shouldn't let these things go to your head. With my temporary boost, I felt empowered to out myself to the entire college. Stick it to the assholes, ya know? My two-faced 'friend' from Recovery, he's first...

If it wasnt already 3am. Time to go. I'm essentially dragged out of the bar against my will by Blake and his Friend. I'd lost count of how much I'd had to drink after my 12th mixer. Fear of being exposed at the next meeting was not on my mind. So walking to a taxi, I openly gloated to Blake's Friend about the Flight Attendant. Blake's jaw dropped. Realization slowly dawned on him.

"So what," I said. "I'm [blank], big deal."
The blank of course being to maintain atleast some ambiguity.

His response actually stunned me.
"I must admit, I'm kinda homophobic. But you dont fit any of the stereotypes. Maybe I'm wrong."

Why isnt it always this easy?

Somehow, we picked up a strange girl to make four to a taxi. She silently vomited in the backseat. We declined to inform the driver.

With my newfound confidence as a homophobia destroyer, I decided to cure my 'friends' here and now. I'll martyr myself if I have to; the hero complex strikes again, at shortly before 4am. I sat down in front of the worst offender's door, and waited for him to return.

I was discovered the next morning passed out in the middle of the hallway. Luckily, I still had both eyebrows. It would remain to be seen if the evening's conversations would stay with my first heterosexual Blake and friends.