IN OZ
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THE RELLIES
THE GAMES
ROY, H.G. & FATSO
THE PUBS
OTHER STUFF
HOME, JAMES
Near the end of our stay, Rob and your narrator ventured down to the
Shelbourne late one night after "The Dream". On the way down the elevator, we decided to see if we could get into
Heineken House, the official Dutch party palace on a cruise ship in Darling Harbour. We crossed the bridge
and saw a wild party going on inside the boat... people hanging out the windows and dancing on chairs. But
it was closed for a private party that night. Since it seemed like we wouldn't be able to get in, we started
back towards the Shelbourne.
Right outside the Heineken House, we had to wait for a bus to go by coming out of a driveway. Just then we turned around and there was this little guy with bad teeth holding a Union Jack wearing a Boxing Kangaroo t-shirt with a flashing Heineken bottle cap pinned to it. He said in an incredibly difficult to decipher, drunken Cockney rambling, "Hey, you guys aren't Aussies are you?" Your narrator responded, "No. We're from Mexico."
The rest of the conversation went something like this:
Adam: Oh good. Cuz the Aussies hate the British. They make it real difficult for us to get here.
Rob: Oh, because of that whole thing where the British shipped the prisoners to Australia, right?
Adam: Yeah. But I got here. I fucking love it here, man! I got to tell you something. Can I tell you something? I got to tell you something. The fucking Aussie women are awesome. Oh, I love 'em.
Robert: Oh really?
Adam: Yeah. I got to tell you something. I got to tell you something. They will give it up just like that. (snaps his fingers)
Rob: Wow. (smiles at me as if to say, "Uh-oh, we got a wacko.")
Adam: Yeah. The boids are awesome!
Rob: Huh?
Adam: Yeah. I got to tell you something. I got to tell you something. I was over at the casino and
these two boids were all over me.
(At this point we realized "boids" was birds, as in chicks)
Robert: Good for you.
Adam: Hey, I'm going to Arizona. The boids there are fucking fantastic!
Robert: Arizona? Kinda hot there for a Brit don't ya think. I mean, we're from Mexico and Arizona's hot even to us.
Adam: I don't care. As long as the boids are there.
Rob: Arizona? Yeah, I guess there are some pretty good looking chicks there. How long you gonna be there.
Adam: Oh I dunno. Maybe three hours. You guys wanna go with me? Oh, I love the boids.
Robert: (laughing) Three hours! Shit man, you gotta stay longer than that!
Rob: Yeah, what is it just a layover or something? How much can you get done in three hours.
At some point we finally figured out he was talking about a bar called "Arizona". It was around the corner from our apartment. In fact, a boid, errr, chick, (woman?) carrying a souvenir glass from Arizona went walking by as we crossed the bridge back towards the Shelbourne. Along the way Adam went into some very descriptive dissertations on the female anatomy, especially those of the Aussie women. There was one couple walking behind us that veered off in another direction at hearing his stories of conquering the Aussie female population single-handedly - like some Cockney-Napoleon-Rudolph Valentino offering himself to all Aussie women preoccupied with his particular brand of love potion.
Clearly, this guy set up the rest of the night for us. We decided to stop in at the Shelbourne and stayed until well past 4am. The image of our little Brit friend strolling up Market Street, Union Jack hoisted over his shoulder, with thoughts of all the boids about to come his way will forever be etched in our memories. God save the Queen... from Adam!
Adam making friends with two nice Mexican fellas. Mexican?
- Disassociated Press, 2000
Adam with new found friends.
- Disassociated Press, 2000