I want to tell him that is my worst fucking nightmare. Instead I just flashed him a smile.
‘I can’t wait, I am looking forward to the adventure,’ I add. I suspect he is not convinced, and he chuckles.
‘Oh an adventure it will be, Ruby. when you find out what sort of animals, both human and non-human live in this place. I will give you a quick run-down as to who’s who while it’s quiet. You look like a newbie to this hostel lark, so it seems best I give you the heads up on how things run here.’
First of all he points to the far right corner of the room where there are four bunk beds. ‘That’s a group of Chinese students here to do English. Very peculiar lot they are. I’ve tried to speak to them a few times and they all start staring at the screens on their phones and pretend they haven’t heard me and leave it to one called Ken to answer me back. He’s polite enough but he tends to give one word answers, although I swear that Ken isn’t his real name.’
‘Then you have Laurence, a decent chap from London, aged 27, on a working holiday visa. Having a break from the 9-5 life as a software engineer back home, but out here he works in a bar, it’s the same one as me. It’s the Juicy Parrot Bar on Kent Street; it’s basically a backpacker’s bar full of lots of sweaty bodies wanting to get as plastered as quickly as possible. A few local guys also go so they can find themselves a new foreign acquaintance, if you get my drift.’
I immediately cross the Juicy Parrot off my must-see list whilst in Sydney.
Andre then continues with his lowdown of the rest of the inhabitants in the human zoo.
‘On the bunk above Laurence is James. He recently turned 21. He is a bit opinionated but that may be the drink talking, he seems to always have a bottle of something in his hand. He’s here with his friend Dean; it’s rather funny that their names make up the actor James Dean. Shame neither of them share the actor’s charm. That’s Dean’s bed to the right over there.’
I can’t really see Dean’s bed as there is a big sheet tied from one end of the frame to the other. The sheet looks like it hasn’t been washed in weeks, but outside there are several condom packets, some of which are opened, and a couple of empty tins of beer to the side. There’s also a magazine with a naked woman on the front, pushing her breasts together with her hands and pouting. No wonder she's clutching her breasts, she must be absolutely freezing.
‘You have just laid eyes on the Love Den.’
I look at Andre in sheer disbelief; it looks more like a crack den. Andre just shrugs his shoulders.
‘This guy likes to bring back his lady friends. He’s spent all the money he earned doing construction work out here on booze and can’t afford a private room, so that’s his solution. He expects we can’t hear the jungle noises he makes.
‘Then there is Georgia and Sebastian, the Made in Chelsea extras. They’re on their ‘gap yah’; probably have a friend called Tarquin…Both like to pretend they are roughing it to show they’ve been on a proper Australian adventure, but they’re only here for one more day and then they’re off to join their friend Rupert at his villa in Bali.’
‘Next to the Chelsea crew is Pam and Lucy who are basically the female equivalent of James and Dean…so you can imagine what they are like.’ He paused for a second. “Actually Ruby, I will have to make an apology as I tend to make judgements rather quickly. You might love all of these people and think I am the crazy one. Especially as I am the one not wearing any clothes.’
We both laugh. Even though Andre is butt naked, I have a feeling he probably is the more sensible one in this room.
‘You'll get used to them soon enough though. How long are you staying here?’
‘Well I’m hoping to be here for a year, although only in this hole, err I mean hostel, for a couple of weeks. Then hopefully I’ll move into a shared house with my sister Martha who’s travelled with me….’
‘Woah woah,’ says Andre. ‘No need to give me your life story right now, the basics will do. There’s plenty of time to find out about each other as the days go by,’ he winks.
‘Anyway, changing the topic - looks like you have the remaining bed, number 18, the best bunk of them all.’ Andre was grinning.
‘Oh really?’ I ask quizzically.
‘Yep it’s the bunk below me. How lucky is that?’ At this stage I am not sure whether this is a blessing or a curse. Andre seems sweet enough despite the lack of clothes but you can never be sure about how crazy some people are. I put my rucksack in the locker beside my bunk and begin to survey the rest of the room again. Suddenly the dorm room’s door bursts open and a loud bellowing female voice fills the room.
‘Oh my fucking god…who does this guy think he fucking is? Seriously, it was nothing more than a one night stand. He needs to get over himself. Actually babes do you know where the nearest sexual health clinic is? I think I might have chlamydia.’
Wow. This girl clearly likes to make an entrance.
‘Arrrgghhhh, Andre put some fucking clothes on you weirdo, no one wants to see you with your cock out.’
Andre laughs.
‘Hi Pam, how are you? Do you want me to give you a hug?’
‘No I don't you freak, just put some bloody clothes on.’
Whilst Andre looks through his tattered bag for some underwear, Pam swivels her head in my direction. She looks me up and down and then a black hole fills the room as she opens her mouth to talk at me.
‘And I guess you must be another one of Dean’s cast offs. Let me tell you now Missy we are fed up of Dean thinking he can bring any old girl in here to satisfy his needs…’
‘No,’ I interrupt sheepishly. ‘My name is Ruby and I just got here. I’m hoping to spend a few months out here on a working holiday visa to travel the country and have an adventure…’
‘Fantastic,’ she grinned enthusiastically; though I knew she had lost interest after the point I told her I was new. She clearly had other plans on her mind…such as getting pissed.
‘I love it when a newcomer arrives, a great excuse for a messy night. Wheeeeey, let’s get on the beers Ruby.’
She pulls out a six pack of beer from underneath her bed and passes me a can. This is not how I wanted my first evening in Australia to be. I would rather go to bed and get an early night so I can spend a day ticking off all the touristy things I want to do before starting the search for work and proper accommodation. I really didn’t want to spend it with Party Pam.
Don’t get me wrong I do like a nice alcoholic beverage in a sophisticated bar or at home on a quiet evening in watching a film or reading a book, but when it comes to downing litres of the stuff I am just not interested nor have the liver capacity. My Dad and Martha, on the other hand, can drink like a fish. But the ‘let’s get drunk and party like a mad man’ gene skipped me. I seem to have gained the ‘old before my time gene’ instead, which is pretty useless when dealing with the likes of Pam.
I slowly sip the beer she handed to me out of politeness and she gives me a hearty slap on the back as if I am some sort of Jolly Roger about to sail the high seas with Captain Drink A Lot. I’d rather walk the plank. But as I try to look for the perfect place to get rid of my can I am backed into the corner of the room by Pam and there is no escape.
‘Let me round up the rest of the bitches staying here and we can head to the local backpackers bar.’
‘That sounds awesome,’ I reply as I plaster a false smile across my face and watch her stagger out of the room. I try to look on the bright side. Tonight could be the night I meet a guy who just got roped in by his friends to attend this ‘backpackers bar’ and we could escape together and sit in a wine bar and listen to some soul records and talk for hours on end. Now that sounds like pure bliss.
I am rudely awakened from this lovely dream by the returning sound of a fog horn or as she is most commonly known, Pam.
‘So, I have rounded up the party bitches and also another newbie. In fact, she really looks like you. Let me introduce you to them before we head over to Ju
icy Parrot.’
Oh god not that place.
Three scantily dressed girls and one familiar face, all holding some sort of cheap beer, enter the room. The fog horn starts again.
‘Okay, so here is Lucy, she has been my best friend since Primary School and we decided to go on holiday together…’
Lucy appears to have been ‘on the beers’ already as she decides to interrupt Pam’s introductions to tell us about Pam’s love life.
‘Pam also has a massive crush on Dean….’
‘Shut up Lucy. Just because you want to get in his mate James’s pants doesn't mean I want to get with Dean.’
I really do not care about who wants to sleep with whom, but can see that this is an indicator of the tone of the night ahead of us. Pam then introduces me to Ellie and Vicky. Vacant is the best description of them both. Utterly and totally vacant. Pam then looks at Martha but I can tell she has already forgotten my sister’s name.
‘And this is…,’
‘Martha,’ I interject.
‘Do you know each other already?’ Pam replies slightly open mouthed.
‘Yes, she is my twin sister.’
‘Shut the front door,’ squeals Pam. ’Oh my god, you are twins. That is so freakin’ cuuuuuute!’.
Martha rolls her eyes at me. Glad to see my sister and I are on the same wavelength on thinking Pam is a bit of a joke. I sidle up to Martha and whisper in her ear.
‘Please get me out of this.’
‘Not a chance,’ she grins back. ‘You need to stop being so boring and enjoy a bit of party time to celebrate our arrival in Oz.’
I had a feeling that was going to be her answer, but it was worth a try. It’s off to Juicy Parrot’s we go then. Although I feel sick rather than juicy as a parrot already after having two cans of this cheap beer.
Before leaving the hostel for hell on earth this evening, I grab my floral tea dress from my broken bag and put it on in the dorm’s pathetic excuse for a bathroom. I then slick on my favourite red lipstick, brush my hair so I look fairly presentable and give a wave to Andre who is now wearing some pants.
He mouths to me ‘good luck’. I think I am going to need it. I follow the other girls out of the hostel and into the now dry and warm night air. I really hope that this is all part of the journey to find love.
CHAPTER 4
5:25pm. Just 5 more minutes until freedom and the end of this god awful meeting with Bert, the guy from pensions with the permanently coffee-stained tie. He screams middle management, with his briefcase and endless PowerPoints on “blue sky thinking”. He is currently trying to convince me and my fellow accountant colleagues the importance of reminding our clients to have a pension when dealing with their business accounts. As if I don’t have enough to do already in ensuring their books are balanced and they aren’t going to go into liquidation.
Other than the crazy ass clients I occasionally have to deal with such, as Mrs. Morell and her pet Chihuahua who likes to slobber all over my shoes; I actually love my job. The guys I work with in the office are pretty solid and provide some serious banter.
People always thought I would go into psychology and follow in my parents’ footsteps. There was no way I was going to do that. I know how loopy that has made them. In accountancy, there is no craziness, no emotion. It is just all about the numbers. That’s how I like things.
I catch Pete’s eye and make a yawning gesture followed by a drink of an invisible beer, he responds back with a nod and a thumbs up. I can always rely on Pete to spend a night on the town whatever the day of the week; he is almost as bad as me, although I may add he isn’t quite as good looking or as popular with the ladies as I am.
Finally, Bert has decided that we are in enough of a corpse-like state to bring the presentation to an end and just as he says ‘thank you for….’ I have already pulled the metal handle on the glass door of the meeting room in order to get a step closer to freedom and soaking up a room scented with beer and pussy.
Just as I leave I feel a hard slap between my shoulders.
‘What’s the rush Turnstile? I thought you'd want to stay and get Bert’s autograph after that outstanding performance.’
I turn around and see it’s just Pete.
The nickname Turnstile was coined by him as it’s a play on my surname Turner. For some reason he finds this name hilarious and has managed to convince all my other friends that this should now be my name, although unfortunately for him his surname is Higginbottom so you can imagine the fun I had with that one.
‘Na you’re alright Piggy, I saw you sniffing round him and didn’t want to get in the way of your budding romance there.’
‘So…’ says Pete, putting all six foot three of him tall and wide in front of me and ignoring my brilliant comeback. ‘...I think the plan for tonight should be dinner and beers at the Hudson and then once we are suitably lubricated we can head to Juicy Parrot to see what’s on their menu tonight. Wink. Wink.’
Ah, Juicy Parrot, how I love that place. It’s the perfect place to pick up some desperate backpacker who is looking for the chance to be swept off her feet by some rugged Aussie. And I know just the person to make that happen. I agree with Pete’s plan.
‘Excellent,’ replies Pete, who then decides to unbutton another button on his pink striped shirt, showing off a huge pile of chest hair that could probably keep a small family of four warm for the next month.
‘Mate what are you doing?’
‘We are going out.’
He is looking at me as if I am the one who’s decided to release the beast sitting on my chest.
‘Yeah I know but I didn’t realise you were treating me to a strip tease before we leave the office.’
‘Ha-ha mate, I wouldn’t do that as you might get jealous over this sexy body…’
He begins to make rubbing motions up and down his body as we walk down the stairs out of the office and I start to think whether I made the right decision to go out with Pete tonight. In this mood he might seriously hinder my chances of finding Miss Thursday.
Thankfully he stops rubbing himself all over and concentrates on getting out of the building through the sliding glass doors as quickly as possible. Thank Christ it was just us in the stair well at that point and no one in the office saw that display. As much as I like to have a laugh and party I do like to maintain my professionalism in the work place. I am good at my job and I don’t want anyone to have any reason to take me down from being the top of my game as a high-ranking accountant at Charter & Charter.
Pete on the other hand is a bit on the lazy side and focuses more on the social side of the office rather than the work side, but manages to do just enough to prevent himself from being in the firing line.
Just as I think I am safe from any more of Pete’s outbursts, as we walk towards the Hudson he begins to explain further to me why he was giving his chest some air.
‘Tonight is party night and as its party night you need to undo the third button. Or as I like to call it the ‘party button’ so everyone knows you are up for one HELLUVA Party! Woohoo!’
The loud boom of his voice startles the elderly Chinese man walking at a measured pace in front of us, so much so that he stops and looks at Pete in shock and amusement. This then encourages Pete to up his ‘party mode’ even further by singing at the top of his lungs the Black Eyed Peas ‘I Gotta Feeling’.
‘TONIGHTS GOING TO BE A GOOD NIGHT…’
This bloke hasn’t even had a drink yet and he’s acting like a loon. I’m hoping some decent Thai food at the Hudson will calm him down a bit otherwise I am going to have to find a way to ditch him.
Pete grins at me, knowing he is making me uncomfortable. I am starting to get a little bit pissed, and not in a good way.
‘Pete mate, you’re getting a bit too loud so I’m going to start walking ten paces behind you now as you’re starting to cramp my style’.
‘Sorry Turnstile, it’s being stuck in that office all day, it gives me cabin fever.
I will calm it down now. Besides I am more starvin’ than Marvin.’
Luckily just as I am on the verge of punching Pete in the face we make it to the Hudson, and the waitress clearly knows what Pete’s appetite is like and points him straight to the buffet bar. I have never seen a man pile so much food on one plate so quickly. Some of us are more dignified and take time to muse over what’s on offer. Plus my slow approach to the buffet bar gives me a chance to eye up the pert ass of the petite brunette waitress as she struggles to open up a bottle of wine for a dining couple.
In between hoovering up his meal and downing several beers, Pete manages to drone on about work. I’m not sure what’s worse - Party Pete or “please help me with my accounts exam” Pete. That’s typical accountant stuff for you. We tend to be obsessed with our work and given any opportunity we will bring it up, and if we don’t bring it up its probably because we are too busy studying the subject, hence the reputation accountants have of being all about work, work, work. And not in the sexy Rihanna kind of way.
However, despite working hard I still find time to party hard and it’s time to cut the chat about balancing figures and start looking at some hourglass figures in Juicy’s instead as the choice at Hudson is rather slim, especially as the brunette I was eyeing was flashing her wedding ring. The simple suggestion that we should now head off to Juicy Parrot brings back Pete’s party mode.
‘YES MATE! LET’S GO AND FIND SOME SEXY FEMALES’.
And this is exactly why Pete has trouble pulling girls.
When we arrive at the bar it’s already heaving and there isn’t as much eye candy as I had hoped. As we wait to be served our next drink I begin to think of who in my list could be available for a booty call and to cut my losses. There’s Michelle, one of the company receptionists on the floor below although I heard she's now dating a banker called Doug. There’s Stacey, but she works nights at a bar now. And Tanya. Yes, Tanya looks like the best option. I send her a flirty text. Instantly she replies.
When Love Meets Lust Page 2
