I got a cab to the Royal, I could probably have walked it but not in my 5 inch heels. Sitting in the cab outside, I didn’t want to leave the comparative safety of the vehicle. I got butterflies deep inside my tummy. Oh Lord what have I done? I’d agreed to meet a bunch of strangers in a strange place a million miles from home. I’d never been a risk-taker before in my life but I had a new found confidence – maybe it was the sun?
I paid the cab driver and nervously stepped out, carefully surveying the surrounding area and trying desperately to find a friendly face. I slowly walked towards the entrance, clocking a couple of guys stood chatting outside the doorway. Both guys smiled as I walked towards the door the one opened the door for me. I smiled back and thanked him. Stepping inside the bar it felt cosy, inviting even which I wasn’t expecting with it being so far from home.
To the left of the doorway there was a huge dining area leading out to a terraced patio. Straight in front was the bar across a small dance floor area & to the left was a stage with a games room beyond that. It felt a bit like an old-style pub from back home. One thing hit me straight away; the hardwood floor, these Aussies sure do hate carpets. I realise that this is probably because they spend 90% of the year with the air-con on but it did make me feel homesick. The feeling of kicking off your shoes after a long day at work, and sinking your feet into a thick plush pile carpet cannot be beaten.
I walked across the dance floor towards the bar, anxiously scanning the crowd. Why is it that in these situations 5 feet feels like a hundred. So many things ran through my mind – the main one being DO NOT FALL ON YOUR ASS.
Why do I have a penchant for high, high heels? I don’t need them, at 5’7 I’m taller than most girls. “But they do make you walk properly” – those words of wisdom my mother instilled in me ringing in my ears. Not when you fall over mother! I snapped back – hopefully subconsciously.
As I got closer to the bar I noticed Whippet first. He smiled and said Hi. Reidy was stood behind him
“What ya drinking?” He said “Whip’ll get the stubs in” Stubs I’d come to learn was the Australian word for beers. Only Australians can speak English and still need a translation. “Uhm just a coke, please” i mumbled, I was in that classic dilemma situation. Do I get bladdered and impress them with how witty and fun I can be? (in my eyes anyway) or do I try to retain at least a little of my dignity and remain sober?
Whippet looked at me and put on a comedy frown. “Ya cant just have a coke” he laughed “or you’ll end up carrying Reidy home”
“Ok I’ll have a rum & coke” I say sheepishly.
So that was it, decision made. I was gonna be fun Alex tonight. I made a mental plan of action - be fun, retain dignity AND CLOTHES, and be able to face the world (and lifeguards tomorrow). No problem, I quietly reassured myself.
A few things to note about me; first, I rarely drink, second, I rarely drink and thirdly when I do drink I think I’m hilarious and tend to do stuff I wouldn’t normally. It’s like alcohol is liquid courage for me – not that I’m a wallflower without it - more like I feel like Superwoman with it. So that’s how the evening began – my induction into the Lifeguard School of socialising.
We all stood about the bar area for a little while, and more lifeguards turned up. I think the alcohol numbed my nerves as I stopped gawping at them all. It was like being right in the middle of a Bondi Rescue episode.
I stood on the sidelines of the conversations, the guys were bagging each other again and talking surfing and sports. I felt a bit left out, It suddenly occurred to me that I was the ONLY girl and I had virtually nothing in common with these guys. But they seemed like such a fun bunch.
