Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Bad nobbage

New Years Eve was fun. Hate to put my cock back on the keyboard, but forgive me, it’s the only thing worth mentioning recently. Yes, I spent the early hours of January 1st fumbling rather enjoyably with a lovely Indian lady I met a couple of days previously. Myself, Wolfgang and Luke (an Ozzie bloke with a big ginger beard) made a trip back to the circus that is Palolem beach for the celebrations. I played some songs at the Alpha Bar open mic thingy again. I got persistently heckled by some drunk English twat (before I’d even started) so when he continued to heckle after my second song I improvised a song for him with words to the effect:

“There’s a drunk man in the front row called Patrick. He really wants to be involved, but he’s got nothing to say so maybe it’d be better if he just shut the fuck up. What do you think Patrick? Everyone can have a good time if maybe you shut the fuck up.”

I was quite pleased with it. The tune was catchy. The chords were progressive. The lyrics were inspirational. But it turned out that Patrick was best mates with the organiser of the night, and there were a lot of his friends in that night. So it didn’t go down as well as I’d hoped, and the organiser actually came and told me to stop playing after I’d done just three songs. I was all ready to leave the stage by getting everyone going with Dylan’s 'Rainy Day Women'. But no, censored. They’ll stone you when you’re trying to be so good, huh.

So after this I necked some Red Bull, and ran along the beach dancing like a bad nob at all the parties along the way. I wasn’t aware of any countdown to the New Year but at
some stage Wolfi came and hugged me, so I went around doing the same.

Yes, this Indian lady. I don’t quite know how it all happened, but she ended up back at my place (alcohol really can be useful). And in the morning, over some freshly squeezed mango juice she casually enquired about my age. I said “guess”, she said either hopefully or delusionally, “late twenties?” Hehe. When I told her the truth she laughed. Turns out she’s thirty one. Well, that’s a new record for me.

Anyway, putting my pathetic childish ego aside for a moment, she was a lovely woman and obviously young at heart. It’s all good. She said I could come visit her in Bombay. She pointed out that if I did I would have free food and accommodation. Don’t tempt me. Oh and she’s divorced as well. Did I mention?

I feel like I could have told this story better. I studied narrative techniques at university for heaven’s sake, but just look what can happen when you abandon your learning and grow your hair.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

hey...just read tht blog..indian lady eh? well...well...yeah and i agree..u could have written the story better..it just doesnt flow in like the rest of it...i was surely more interesting than tht!!!!!!
it sure was fun reading though...didnt really think i would be reading tht there..haha!!!!!! its starnge how one never really gets to know how others perceive you, you know...u always look at ur self as u see u...not how others seem to look at you...anyway...its good to know i think ..another perspective...till i hear from u...cheers!!!!!!!!