So I went out on the town on Saturday night. Talk about out of character! We stayed in Brisbane at my cousin’s place. We were all meant to head out to a party at our friends K and P’s house, but the various husbands (including M) all opted for the safe option instead. As in, they stayed home and had a civilised evening of chatting and red wine drinking and went to bed early. This meant the ladies were footloose and fancy free.
My cousin B, despite being a mother of two, has maintained a far greater commitment to getting out and about during the night time hours than I ever could, and was actually backing up from a series of late nights in Melbourne. Impressive to say the least. As you can imagine, I was not backing up from anything like this at all. Because I generally opt for an evening of Gardening Australia and folding washing. Usually the concept of having to wake up at 5am to two small children is enough to prevent me from getting my booze on, but I threw caution to the wind and decided to PARTY LIKE IT WAS 1999! Eat your heart out Prince/Love Symbol.
So before the party, B and my honorary cousin KLF dragged me out to the Valley to see a friend’s band. It was at The Zoo. For non Brisbane types, this is a small grungy GIG VENUE. I had a bit of a freak out about what to wear. I mean The Zoo was a regular HANG OUT for me in my YOUTH but TIMES HAVE CHANGED PEOPLE! I opted for a long sucky in black dress with floaty voluminous metalicus esque layers and tan wedges. You know, quite nice, I guess, but STILL a bit on the MATRONLY side.
When we got there the bouncer was checking ID. We all got the GIGGLES and I said to him “Do I really have to show you I AM LIKE ONE HUNDRED YEARS OLD!” He smirked and answered “Not QUITE one hundred.” I wasn’t sure whether this was a compliment or a veiled insult but I chose to view it in a positive light, such was my commitment to HAVING A GOOD NIGHT!
We clip clopped upstairs with all the YOUTH and had a confusing exchange with the barman about buying drinks;
Me [shouting over the music]: Can we get a bottle of white wine and three glasses please?
Barman: Oh I’m sorry we don’t sell it by the bottle.
Me [shouting]: Oh OK then. Um…just three glasses then.
B [shouting]: What about a bottle? Can we get a bottle to share?
Me [shouting]: No they don’t sell it by the bottle.
KLF [shouting]: How about a bottle to share?
Barman: We don’t SELL it by the bottle, we’ve had a few PROBLEMS in the PAST!
B [shouting]: OH! OK what about a bottle of bubbles then, to share?
Barman [rolling eyes]: UGH we don’t SELL ANYTHING BY THE BOTTLE
Anyway once we settled down with our glasses I scanned the crowd. There were a lot of very polite HIPSTER types around causing me to feel dead set uncool. I was tempted to shout out “Hey you kids guess what?! I AM WEARING A BEIGE MATERNITY BRA, how hipster is THAT!?” or “Back in my day we didn’t consider it a good concert unless we got BLIND, lost our friends in the crowd in the first 30 seconds and then finish the evening soaked in beer and other people’s sweat !”
But I didn’t, which is probably just as well really, what with my matronly appearance and all.
We headed by cab to the party after the band had finished, and I would say for myself that I cut some interesting moves on the dancefloor whilst shout-singing along to a variety of happening tunes. Cathartic. It left me wondering why people don’t have house parties so much any more? How crazy are we? They are SO FUN OMG! And then I realised it’s because we all have children who would wake up and cry and RUIN EVERYTHING WAAAH! The little killjoys.
We stayed out til the wee small hours. Props, big ups and respect to our spouses because they removed the children from the house in the morning so we could sleep in.
All in all an excellent evening. I give it 9/10. And I never give full marks. Thank you everyone who was involved.
|The blurrier the photo, the better the night!|