Life? Well It’s Like a Bicycle (You Get On and Go Round and Round and Round a Bit, and Then You Fall Off)
March 16, 2000
Well, it’s St Patrick’s Day tomorrow. Ms. J and The Rock wanted a big group of us to go straight to an Irish pub tomorrow night after work, which on reflection is seeming like a potential bad decision. Think about it. St Patrick’s Day. Where do people go? Irish pubs. Hopefully I’ll at least be able to inhale and exhale in the pub.
It’ll also be my last hurrah with everyone from work. I’ll still keep in contact with The Rock and Ms. J I reckon, but I’m going to miss everyone else a lot.
I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to drink. A taxi from Geelong to Torquay would cost at least $25, and I’m trying to figure out if getting pissed is worth $25 for a taxi trip. I think I’ll do it, I’ve got to at least get pissed if I’m leaving work. Anyway, I’d feel dumb if everyone else is standing around drinking Guiness, and here’s me standing there with a very Irish Coca Cola.
I was talking to the others about how I’m going to have to look for a new job in Sydney. The Angry Brit had a hard time finding employment before he got his current job:
Me: So, I’ll be job searching like a maniac after I’ve had a week off of doing nothing.
The Angry Brit: It’s hard to get jobs nowadays. All the cute girls get them.
Me: Oh, just shut up and shave your legs and go for an interview in drag.
*****
I got another phone call at work this morning from Community Radio Steve. I wish he’d leave me alone. If you haven’t been reading my past few entries, this guy used to work at a community radio station with me, and he’s an unusual guy, always full of new schemes and the such. One day he just up and disappeared (to New Zealand, I think), but he’s re-appeared in Geelong again. I’ve seen him around town the past few weeks, we were at a party together last weekend (pure coincidence) and now he keeps ringing me up. I found out why, today.
Me: Hello, how can I help you?
Community Radio Steve: Hello, it’s Steve!
Me: Oh god. Please go away.
Community Radio Steve: Hey, when do you leave to Sydney?
Me: Next Tuesday.
Community Radio Steve: Coz I’m thinking of moving back up to Sydney with my girlfriend.
Me: Oh, great. (Note: sarcasm never comes across well in text, does it?)
Community Radio Steve: I’m thinking about getting back into acting again.
Me: I didn’t know you acted in the first place.
Community Radio Steve: Oh, yeah. I played the lead role in an independent movie my friend made in Sydney.
Me: Fantastic. (Note: sarcasm never comes across… oh, don’t worry)
Community Radio Steve: I had this bit in it, where I had to spew up because I was drunk. We took five goes to do it. It was fantastic, it was like choreographed spewing.
Me: Gee. Wish I could have seen it. (Sarcasm etc etc etc)
Community Radio Steve: Oh yeah, there’s uh… um… there’s this, uh… um…
Me: What?
Community Radio Steve: I wanted to… there’s a … I keep thinking about.. um..
Me: You want to talk about something?
Community Radio Steve: Yeah.. yeah… ummm, it’s kinda… well, my girlfriend, she, well.. I don’t think… um…
Me: It’s about your girlfriend?
Community Radio Steve: No! No… see, there’s this other… well, not really, but if I… hmm…
Me: Are you okay?
Community Radio Steve: (explodes) IAMBISEXUAL!
Me: Oh, is that all?
Community Radio Steve: Yeah. I wanted to talk to you about it, coz you’re gay and all.
Me: So what does that make me? The faggot version of Doctor Feelgood? Sorry, Steve, I’m the wrong guy…
Community Radio Steve: Ah, doesn’t matter. I’ll just talk to the guy I’m rooting. Bye.
The strange thing is, I still don’t know Community Radio Steve’s surname after about 5 years of knowing him. He’s an enigma. I really am quite worried he’s going to pop up in Sydney and annoy me and Adam, too.
*****
Today I remembered a trick I used to play on the Reception Bitches at my old work, the TAFE college. They never fell for it, but I was hoping a girl at work would today…
Girl sitting nearby me: Oh, where’s my lip balm….
Me: (thinking quickly) Here you go. (passes glue stick over)
Girl sitting nearby me: You’ve got to be joking, fuckstick.
Me: Oh, it was worth a try. I probably should have taken the label off first.
Girl sitting nearby me: Yes. Lip balm isn’t often called ‘UHU Glue Gum’.
*****
In the tearoom at work there’s an assortment of women’s magazines lying around. On the cover of an old copy of Dolly, the headline screams ‘Find out every man’s fantasies - inside!’ I felt like I should read it, just to make sure I am having the right fantasies.
*****
On Monday, I’m travelling on the train up to Melbourne to say goodbye to my friends there. Someone emailed me the other day, and obviously they’ve either gone through my journal archives or they’ve been reading my journal for a long time, because they were asking what happened to Ms Superiority, the boss from my old work (the university).
Well, I’m actually going to visit everyone at the university on Monday to see how the Reception Bitches, Ms Superiority and the rest of the gang are going. Ms Superiority was one of the biggest heartless bitches I’ve ever met, so I’ll be interested to see where she’s ended up. (Typical Ms. Superiority quote - ‘Babies are creepy. They look like little hairless rabbits. I want to sit on them’ - and she really did say that).
Actually, the last I heard, Ms Superiority was going to stop doing administration work and turn into a truckie. I am deadly serious - her husband’s a truckie and she wanted to get into that side of things. She’d make a good truckie, but it’d be a pity if she’s not there on Monday when I visit.
*****
I get a lot of emails whenever I mention the Millenium Convenience Store, for some strange reason. Basically, when I visited Sydney last year, there was a Seven-Eleven type store in Sydney’s CBD called Millenium Convenience Store, which is obscene purely because it’s a business with the word ‘millenium’ in it. When I move to Sydney, I’m going to see if it’s still in business - hopefully it’s closed down. I shall investigate, I promise.
*****
I saw one of my old high school teachers in Geelong today. We used to call her Farty for obvious reasons. She taught three different subjects - English, accounting and legal studies. What I used to love was the way she used the same analogy whenever she needed to describe something, no matter what the subject was. Eg:
Farty: Balance sheets? Well, they’re like a bicycle. The back wheel, uh, it balances out the front wheel, so everything just balances up.
Or..
Farty: Plaintiffs? Well, they’re like a bicycle. The spokes are, uh, like the plaintiff. If they’re not there, um, well, you, ah, have no case.
Or…..
Farty: Oxymorons? Well, they’re like a bicycle. It’s, ahh, it’s like when you have a flat tire, but you have a bike pump as well. It’s like this, umm, this, kinda, contradicting thing.
*****
My sister got her learner’s driving licence this week, and she also was given the option to nominate if she wanted to donate her organs if she dies - apparently they record this on your driver’s licence in Victoria now. I wonder if I’m allowed to do that. Because I’m gay I’m not even allowed to give blood (that’s right, we don’t want none of that poofter blood), but I wonder if I can give my organs away when I die.
Doctor: It’s a miracle. We’ve given you a liver transplant. It’s totally successful.
Hospital patient: Oh God. I’m going to live. Thankyou, doctor!
Doctor: There’s one thing.
Hospital patient: What? What what what?
Doctor: It’s… it’s…
Hospital patient: Oh God. What is it?
Doctor: It’s a homosexual liver.
Hospital patient: OH MY GOD!
So now on my sister’s licence, she has a little code to say she wants to donate her organs. I’ve got a special code on my licence - a little letter M, to say that I have to drive a car with two side mirrors. Maybe they would like to introduce a little letter G, to say that I’m gay. Wouldn’t want my internal organs turning anyone gay now, would we…
*****
Me and Ms. J went out for lunch today, and we ate it outside the cafe. I think I’ve got a sunburnt right ear because of this. One thing I noticed though. was that after the waiter served me (and me only), every time he would go and wash his hands.
Me: Why does he keep doing that?
Ms. J: He’s washing off the gay germs.
*****
We must boycott all companies who endorse shithouse Killing Heidi!
In fact, I’ve been looking at my road map planning my drive up to Sydney, and I realised something. On my way to Sydney I have to drive through Violet Town - which is where Killing Heidi come from. I’m thinking of driving around the Violet Town yelling out ‘Killing Heidi are craaaaap’ and seeing what happens. Seriously. At least I’ll have something to write about besides boring country towns. I’ll leave a trail of destruction behind me.
I’ve made up my mind. Yes, next Tuesday on my way to Sydney I’m going to drive around Violet Town and scream at the residents. I’ll do it.
