Thursday, October 18, 2007

Ever fallen in love?

I'm in a bar in the city, Manchuria, it's a Melbourne bar, there are booths and if you've never been there before you'll think it's cool for the first few times you go, you can even say things like, "oooh dark, sexy corners for those make -out dates" and people will think you are in the know and / or seductive. People are easily led. Especially when you're hot like me.

I'm in the bar with my friend Felipe, and we're scoping, that's right, scoping, we're scoping it out for a party that he's putting on with Di, and we're drinking Lagavulin which is a steal at fifteen bucks a glass and all is well with the world on this fine, spring Melbourne night.

So, blah blah blah, Luke McD, blah blah blah...

Yes, blah blah blah, something about something, Luke McD...

yes yes...

I fucking miss Lukey, I never really see him, but there's an unspoken thing, like with a lot of my closest friends. I ring him up, just for kicks.

*ring ring*
(I remember those, like another life...)

Lukey!

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHERE ARE YOU? NEVER MIND, YOU ARE NOW THE JUDGE OF THE BANDIDO'S BIKIE GIRL STRIP COMPETITION. I'LL FIND YOU AND PICK YOU UP IN FIFTEEN BUT WE HAVE TO BE THERE IN TEN MINUTES.

Ok. I miss you.

I stand on the corner of Russell and Little Bourke, and he's there in five minutes and we're on the West Gate in three, and there's never a need for catch up other than, any women in your life? - but I guess we both know better than to get into that. Besides, we're going to judge a strip competition. Livin' the dream, or so it goes. Sure...livin' the dream.

We pull up out the front and I shake hands with Whales, The Man. In another two minutes I'm in front of the stage with a score sheet, a beer and a shot of Agwa in front of me. There's five girls, and I mark them on Face, Body, Show, Music and Costume, with an overall score at the end. I don't question any more, I just focus on the job at hand, and when the first girl comes out in the shortest, bustiest, fucking gingham farm girl dress you've ever seen, I realise I've made the right decision coming out here on a school night. I want to give her 10. Actually I want to give her 1, but you know. I want to give 10, Luke stops me.

Just wait, you have to wait.

Cool, but I've never seen an actual good looking stripper before.

Just wait. The bikie's know what's what.

Yeah, no fucking shit.

She finishes and I give her 8. I'm a sucker for gingham, short. The next girl comes out and we see nip / tuck gone awry. She's jaw droppingly gorgeous, again, but her boob job seems to have produced some sort of Total Recall alien boob on boob thing and we Total Recoil and give her 6. I change mine to 7 because, well, because she's still hot, nude, and taut like tiger.

There's an intermission and outside in the beer garden I hear thumping behind the wall.

Do you hear that? I ask Lukey.

Don't go to the toilets right now, someone's being "disciplined".

Oh, ok.

I finish my smoke and go to the bar and what do you fucking know...6 years ago I owned and drove the most beautiful car in the world, a '61 EJ Holden and I let my sister's girlfriend at the time borrow it and she wrapped it around a pole and never paid me a dime, just left my sis, and disappeared and here she is behind the bar the fucking Bikie pub in Dumb Fuck West.

Alison.

Matty....oh, hi.

Hi.

So, what? I just get a drink, go back to my table and wait for the next three strippers.

The lights go dim and bang, she comes out, the next girl and I know nothing for the next fifteen minutes other than you, me, Mexico NOW. Or you, me, anywhere, now. I don't think, this is a stripper, taking her clothes off in front of bikies, I think, I'm mattyb, and what I think, happens.

I'm stupid like that. But it's endearing so shut up.

I score her 11, on all counts. I've seen people naked before, but now I know, there's a better sort of naked. I score her 11 on all counts and then I write my phone number and a short letter which I think is succinct and sexy on the score sheet and then I have my third shot of Agwa because obviously I'm thinking clearly now and know what's what.

There's another intermission and I'm outside having a cigarette when she walks out and stands next to me. Whatever you might think, when it comes to talking to jaw droppingly gorgeous strippers I figure confidence is the key. I say:

Hi, I'm the judge, and I scored you 11 because I've never seen anyone as hot as you, and if I didn't tell you it would be stupid, because I'm surrounded by bikies in a bikie pub and I figure courage is just as likely to get your attention as get me killed. I think I'm being kinda sexy by talking to you, what do you think?

I think you're being sexy.

She laughs, I laugh too.

Did you really score me 11?

Yeah, look.

I've got the score sheet in my pocket so I pull it out and show her.

That's your phone number?

Yeah.

Cute, you're hilarious!

Yeah, I know. I think we should get married and or have sex. As soon as possible.

Ha! Well, let me ask Whale.

Whale?

Yeah, do you know Whale?

Well, I met him at the door, I don't think you should ask Whale, in fact, you know, I was only kidding, and I kind of like living and stuff, it suits me...

Oh it's okay, he'll find it funny, he' not really my boyfriend, it's just...well...I'm his, you know?

No, but whatever you say. I wish you weren't.

I like you.

I like you too. And, I've totally seen you naked now.

Hahaha. Here comes Whale. Whale!

Whale walks over and looks me in the eye and she's blushing and laughing and I wish she wasn't and I'm trying to look like someone who isn't worth killing.

Whale, matty here wants to marry me.

Oh really?

Um. Well. you know, funny ha ha...

We talk for five minutes and I'm sobering up pretty quick for the first few minutes until Whale and I start talking Bukowski and after that it's whatever. I tell him about Fante and he promises to look him up. My little stripper is happy and standing next to me and I don't care about nothing. Whale asks me if I'll come back and judge the final, and I say Hell yeah. He pats me on the back and then he grabs her real rough around the neck and pulls her away, walking off and staring at me, straight in the fucking eye. No Bukowski. No stripper either.

Get it?
Got it.
Good.

I score the next two girls, 7 and 8.5 and leave.

2 comments:

  1. Yo B, haven't dropped in for a while but that one is gold...whether it is true or not. Remember that Fountains of Wayne number..."baby please leave the biker, leave the biker, break his heart..."?

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  2. Richo! I don't remember ever seeing you before, but hello.

    Sadly, or happily, it is true.

    I actually got a text as well, in which I was referred to as "sugar dick" but I thought it wise not to reply.

    Anyways, I'm heading back there to judge the final, or get beaten to a bloody pulp. We shall see.

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