Oi! Get your ‘ands off me!
My friend Becks is in town this week, over from ol’ Blighty. There have been a number of key moments, but perhaps none so memorable as our three hours as Australians. We were at a 4am bar, minding our own business, and these two guys rock up and ask us where we’re from. Becky blurts out, “Bondi, Australia,” and we continued for the rest of the evening in the most atrocious of Sydney accents. It was pretty amusing because I’ve never been able to do an kind of prolonged aussie accent, but I assure you I am now well versed. We were actually having trouble getting OUT of it the next day.
It quickly becomes clear that our new friends are big-time suckos. This was made especially clear when Becks went off to dance with some guy, prompting one of my new friends to say, “You know your friend is dancing with a black guy, right?” Let’s take a moment to realize not only the intense racism of that statement, but also that it was made to a complete stranger about whom he knew nothing. I feel it adds a bit more impact. I went off at him for a bit, but then decided that it was better to fuck with him. He continued to try to hit on me, and at one point I said, “You know, mate, we’re Australian; you don’t have to beat around the bush. If you’re trying to cop on to me, you should just say so.” He hemmed and hawed a bit, but I finally got him to say the following sentence, “Okay yeah, we want you to come up to our place, listen to music, and have sex with us.” To which I responded, “Yeah, mate, that’s not going to happen.” Then he told me all about Chicago - he was an expert having lived here for three months - especially that living above Big City in a one-bedroom apartment with three guys was totally awesome. Snobbery Moment: Yup, Belmont and Clark was very hip about ten years ago, but it has gone to the Trixies and Chads. It is no longer “THE PLACE TO BE,” though it is a good place for this guy to live because it’s far away from me.
Anyway, after taking some hilarious photos, we went up to their place so Becky could play their trap kit. Then we left - without having sex with them. One of them was like, “You guys should just stay here.” I said, “Where?” whilst looking around in horror and vaguely indicating his none-too-clean bed. I’d almost feel bad for the degree to which we mocked them, but a) they didn’t have a clue and b) that one guy really, really, really had it coming. And probably a beating. I really hate racists.
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