Feb. 13 – Grandma to Groover
Almost three years ago I went to see the doctor about some shortness of breath, lightheadedness, and stomach pains. She said I had pre-30s anxiety and not to worry about it. I went home laughing. I was only 27; I wouldn’t turn 30 for three more years! Besides, turning 30 wasn’t so bad…
Now that this birthday is drawing nearer, and I find myself on the road, I can see the changes that have taken place and what makes me different (read: older). It seems that everyone I meet on my travels either is on their way to university or taking a break from it. Sure, there was one 60-something-year-old man I met at a hostel who wanted to make me dinner and show me that his bedroom was big enough to include me and my two girlfriends – but other than that, I’m not exaggerating by a whole lot.
While in Townsville I met Jenny and Milena, two 20-year-old German girls on a six-month tour of Brazil, New Zealand, Australia and Thailand. They agreed to split the cost of a rental car with me for a trip to Cairns. And since Jenny and Milena had a discount coupon for Leo’s Budget Accommodations (including a free meal!), we decided to bunk there for three days before I headed back to Brissy.
The first night we cashed in our free coupons for a plate of food worthy of being free. We took it upstairs where there was a bar, lots of booths and large wooden family-style picnic tables, a pool table, and rock music playing on the stereo as well as from the video monitors. Jenny, Milena and I sat outside while we watched other people walk by with heaping portions of roasted chicken, fish and chips, and other dishes that looked three times as big and tasty as our mystery curry slopped over rice. As soon as we finished, a little after 8:30 pm, we headed back to Leo’s to get a session of email in before they closed down the office at 10 pm.
"There you are!" said the girls, coming into the room and very surprised to see me in bed. "We’re going out, do you want to come?"
I looked at my watch. It was 10:30 pm.
"No, that’s ok. I’m tired," I said. They looked at me oddly.
"Well, you had a big day of driving," they said.
"And yesterday too," I added, since today’s driving wasn’t really that extensive.
"We’ll do it again another time," Milena said.
"Sure," I replied, feigning enthusiasm. I tried to think back to the last time I began a night out after 10 pm. Needless to say, I couldn’t remember.
At 2 am I woke up and noticed that they still weren’t back yet. When I woke up at 4 am and they still weren’t back I started to get a little bit concerned. Thoughts of them being taken home by strange men, and worse, went through my head.
I had a tough time sleeping, since I was worrying about them, but they finally arrived at 5:45 am. Only, they weren’t alone. Milena had brought a guy home with her. Great, now what was I supposed to do. Turn on the light and fish through my backpack for my earplugs? Three beds in one room, and someone getting action? I wondered if I should leave the room. However, in the span of five seconds that it took me to have this conversation with myself, Milena and her man walked through the room and out onto our balcony without making a sound.
The next night we went back to the Woolshed, only this time we all put in A$4.50 to get whatever we wanted on the menu. I ordered the honey-mustard chicken with baked potato and veggies. The girls had ordered something a bit simpler and had gone ahead to get us a table.
When I arrived upstairs the place was packed, not a spare seat in the room. Dance music was blaring through the TVs and speaker systems, and the girls were seated tightly next to the pool table. I sat next to them and started to eat. The music was just too damn loud.
"How did you talk to the boys with all this noise? " I asked Milena.
"What?" she replied.
"Last night… this noise… how did you talk?" I asked again, waving my hands, pointing to the loudness coming from all angles, covering my ears, whatever hand gestures I could muster.
She shrugged her shoulders. My food was so much better than the night before, but I just couldn’t enjoy it with the music blaring the way it was. I hunkered over my food grouchily and didn’t lift my head till I was done.
When I did rise up, there was a pitcher of beer next to Jenny and a full glass in front of me. Just what I needed. Since it was too loud to talk, I looked at the TV above our table and watched the music videos. All sorts of teen pop music was playing, which I associated with those who follow the boy bands and the Britney Spears types. All of a sudden, my shoulders loosened their vice grip on my head and I started to nod and bob to the bass beats. Jenny was dancing in her seat with a big grin on her face. She motioned to the dance floor, asking if I wanted to go out there.
I looked over in that direction and saw the dance floor filling up. I shook my head no, and went back to my beer. She shrugged her shoulders and kept dancing in her seat. Some catchy songs, that normally I’d be too embarrassed to admit to liking (need we bring up Ricky Martin again) came on, and I really started to jiggle in my seat. Then Gloria Gaynor’s "I Will Survive" came on, and I rose to the dance floor as if I’d been called. Jenny quickly followed, and we danced to each other.
The next night we returned and the Woolshed was even more packed than the night before. We returned to "our" table and ate our dinner and drank our beer with some Austrian boys. The music was rocking, and I found myself hoping the mamba songs I liked the night before would come on sooner rather than later. If they did, I’d definitely get back out there. Through the noise the bartender announced a special happy hour and that they’d bring out free pitchers of beers for those that danced on the tables. A funky 70s song came on and Frank, the Austrian farmer beat me up there. But once I was up – occasionally holding on to the rafters for support – they couldn’t get me down.
The last thing I heard when left the bar after 1 am was, "I see you baby, shakin’ that ass…" Or was it, "Who let the dogs out?!"