This weekend's footy groups were a little better than last. Well, I still have tomorrow morning to cope with, but hopefully they'll check out reasonably early or be so knackered that they can't be much trouble (I can hope). Live goldfish were swallowed, and the one English guy on the team (moved to Bendigo from Manchester) got incredibly soppy-drunk at me, but that's all the damage to date.
I guess the effect that alcohol has on a person has a cultural, or at least personality, component, but good lord, that English guy (whose name I don't even remember, therefore can't hide) reminded me so much of this freaking guy when he got drunk, a completely different specimen to the rowdy Aussie boys. He was actually a decent guy, and had made me think earlier in the day about the difference between a nice guy getting drunk and a person who was already a dickhead getting drunk. He complimented me for how I handled the group, and came by the desk a few times to tell me that he thought I was pretty and so forth. When all the other guys ended up going out, he stayed behind because he was so tired and couldn't hack their company (biggest mark of honour among footy groups, apart from swallowing fish and crapping unconventional places, it seems: not sleeping the entire weekend.) But then. BUT THEN. As his voice got more and more mumbly and slurred, he just turned into.... mush! He proposed that I join him in his room for a bit of fun, and when I declined, he got all mopey and philosophical about it. I didn't want to hook up with a drunk guy in a hostel room while I was 1. on shift and 2. in a relationship? Clearly, this was a deep insight into how I was a conformist who secretly wanted to break free!
"It's like, shho hard, innit. So hard. I can see you're like, how do I shhhay thiss, wiv'out offending you, you're like, you feel like you have to conform to what people think of you, you like to have everyfing planned... don't you just want to go nuts, eh? Lose control? I think you just need to give up control for once, just do someving a bit crazy, yeah but it's so hard innit... I can see in your eyes you wanna do it wiv me but you just feel you can't, it's so hard, so hard for us, innit... you got such beautiful eyes, you're shhho beautiful, I just wanna give you a bit of a cuddle and a kiss eh, why don't you come into my room..."
He would kind of drift off mumbling for long stretches of time, and I couldn't really understand what he was saying. There was one morose tangent that I caught when he was slumped on the other side of the counter about how he was just one more drunk guy for me, I must have heard things like this before and just let it wash over me, I'd put up with it at work and then just go home and laugh it off and never seriously think about it. Which: well, he wasn't wrong. And how could he distinguish himself, how could he let me know that we could be something really special, that he wasn't just another drunk guy? Answer: he couldn't?
Then I started feeling a bit bad, because I had enjoyed his company earlier in the day, I could believe that, sure, there would be more to him when he wasn't drunk. But: I had known him for one day. That one day, he was smashed. What could he expect? He was begging me to tell him what I thought of him, and I said I guessed he was a nice guy, and he was like wahhh is that all. I reminded him (not for the first time) that I didn't really know him and that he could be a totally excellent guy for all I knew. "Oh you're so honest, that's what I love about you. You're just such an honest girl. It's just so hard for our situation, innit, so hard for me sitting here at this bar wiv you just thinking that I'm some drunk lad like all the others, but at least you're honest eh, so honest."
Anyway, just like it was in reality, recounting this has gone from amusing to tiresome. The last I saw of him was after I came into reception to see him leaning over the counter, lips pursed. "Just give us a kiss, eh?" he asked, and I have no idea why he thought the answer would be any different than it was to any of his previous suggestions. Then, he kind of wouldn't shut up: "Come on, why not? Just a little kiss, eh? Just gi'us a kiss!" he whined. I sort of snapped at him that he was crossing the line and needed to tone it down. Then he stumbled off (hopefully to sleep) and we shall see tomorrow whether his devotion can last two days.
Anyway. So that we don't have an entire entry about that guy... I'm also:
- Loving Songs for Silverman, the Ben Folds CD I bought the other day. Actually cried at that Gracie song, much to DW's disgust when he learnt that it wasn't even 'that time'.
- 'Dog-sitting' for my aunties over the weekend, for their naughty brown short-haired pointer who's all like 'rrowwr. love me.'
- Relieved that my research assignment is due one week later than I originally thought it was. That means I was extra-virtuous spending those holiday afternoons at uni. I've probably negated whatever effect that had by proceeding to ignore it as soon as I found out the 'real' due date, but... I'll get back into it tomorrow.
- Really into cereal at the moment. Did you know you can eat it any time of day, not just for breakfast? Yeah, I knew it too, but I didn't really know it in an intimate sense until recently.
- Hoping that nobody enters my aunts' house before I do and sees the dim bedroom with messy sexed-in bed. They shouldn't, but... well, they better not.
- Happy that there are multiple episodes of Seinfeld screening on the new channel 'Go' each day. What can I say, I'm easily pleased.
--khere is always the first one to leave the shower.
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