Nobody Likes an American

I took the day off work yesterday which oddly enough consisted of me waking up at my usual 7am and going into the office for a half a day anyway. Oh well, it still felt like a day off. It was my last day at my old art deco flat on
Princes Street and I had to make the place spotless for the listing today. It was a good first apartment (they don’t really call them that here) in Australia, that was fully furnished, but did end up feeling more like a tomb to me in the end. I tried to muster up some kind of nostalgia before I left but I had none.

After turning my keys into Hocking Stewart I walked around St Kilda killing time and waiting for the tram crowd to disseminate. I wasn’t in the mood to be packed in like sardines so I had a kebab at the Sunshine where the nice and pretty Middle Eastern girl working there smiled in recognition to her favourite frequent customer. “Mixed kebab?” she asked with a winning smile? Yes indeed. Afterwards I decided to duck into Topolinos on Fitzroy Street for a glass….okay two glasses of red.

So there we all were, eating, drinking, and enjoying the calm after a long day of whatever it was that we did and would soon forget. Then, a family came in and sat down and something weird happened. I had the glass to my lips, the man in front of me had the fork to his mouth, and the lesbians next to me pulled the sports section of the Age newspaper to their faces in eager anticipation of the latest news of Geelong’s Footy team. Then it happened. The family that had just joined us took their order and for all of us to hear started requesting their prawns to be cooked well done, their sauce on the side, no mushrooms, and a few other requests.

Everyone in the room stopped and all went quiet. Over my glass my eyes darted to the lesbians as their eyes darted to mine. Quickly followed was those of the gentlemen in front of me who slowly put down his fork. Several other pairs of eyes joined in this optical form of the calypso and then it was over. One at a time we slowly nodded to one another in a mutual form of respect and understanding.

Americans.

I got invited to a BBQ (Barbie) this afternoon and thought I could figure out how to get to the house on my own. I started out right, but then asked someone which train goes down the highway as that is where I needed to go. He told me to get on the 67, which was of course I later found out NOT going down the highway. So I take a detour and figure, well, the street the guy lives on is adjacent to Inkerman Street from the map I looked at before, I will just leg it and take it until I reach his street. Well this turns out to be the very far end of Inkerman and I end up miles and miles holding a six pack of Tasmania ’s fine James Boag’s beer. Typical to most cities, I was walking through the old dodgy parts of town until I crossed a major street and landed straight into a really nice expensive part of town. Right away I realize that I am not in Kansas anymore, I’m in the Land of the Jews!

Now I love my Hebrew friends, absolutely love them, but it was just different for me to find myself here in their land without realizing I was going there. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was walking around in black Hasidic garb with their very Jewish wives walking meekly beside them. Even teenagers with braces who couldn’t yet grow a chin strap were in garb. I guess this would be like thinking your going to New Jersey only to find yourself in the Amish country of Pennsylvania. It was pretty cool actually. The people were very friendly. Old men would say hello. I of course was getting cocky and was very tempted to say Shalom, but respectfully didn’t. I think they thought I was Jewish. A girl in Brisbane told me I looked Jewish, so I thought that maybe I had Jew camo going.
 

I did end up at the BBQ with my now warm six pack and was very sweaty from my long walk. I met some Aussies, Kiwis, Japanese, Chinese, and Filipinos, but none of my descendents of Abraham friends. At the bbq I found very nice people and very good food, but the awkward stand by yourself alarm clock went off and I knew it was time to go.

Getting back was equally adventurous as I took a tram heading back to St. Kilda Beach. I was the only one on the tram and so the tram thought it would be funny if it broke down in the red light district of St Kilda. Haha tram, good one! This is a part of town I don’t like walking in during the day much less close to 9pm on a Saturday night and it was getting to be the witching hour. People are drunk, sex workers (that’s what prostitutes are called here) and rowdy youngsters are running around all willy-nilly, so I thought it would be best to get out of there as fast as possible. I wait a long time next to some men who found standing a difficult task and finally got another tram back to my apartment. I set my clock (that is cell phone) ahead for daylight savings and went to bed full of good food and fun with my life once again in tact.

For some, a chapel is a place you go to worship. Well today was my first real visit to Chapel Street in St. Kilda/Parahn and let me tell you right now, this is the church where local Australian girls go to be hot. Amazing, the girl/guy ratio was unprecedented. Although I naturally didn’t get checked out by a single one, I still felt kind of weird. I did that awkward thing with my collar to cover any possible cleavage I may have been showing like the ladies do at times. A very cool strip though all in all. I started out by having a Laffe Blond at the Railroad Hotel. I had an all day headache (remember this is the day of “The Hangover” so I was determined to fix myself up right. (Note: Fish and chips for brekky is not a hangover cure, quite the opposite so I am going to check that off my list of remedies. I will keep experimenting though and get back to you)

So okay, I got my courage up and took on Chapel. Now, it had your American chains, The Bath Shop, Kentucky Fried Chicken, TGI Fridays, and even a Virgin Mega Store, but it was all very Australian. It’s a very long street and I walked both sides of it back and forth. I am a very powerful walker. A real athlete in the sport I guess. So I am MOVING. Hey cutesy couple holding hands! Get out of my way! Hey drunk scrawny hoodlum with the dog! Move it! I heard about a record shop on Greville Street so I turned down that and visited it. Melbourne is one of the coolest cities to explore. Just turn at any street and you are bound to find something of interest. I went into a pet store because I wanted to see if there were any cool new animals I could neglect. There weren’t.

Now at this time, the sun has started to go down. Oooooh let me tell you. It’s like a zombie or vampire movie. All of a sudden I am walking down Greville and all over big burly drunk Aussie blokes are coming out of the wood works with their collared shirts and feu-hawks. (I did the cleavage grab again for some reason) So I stopped at some footy sports bar to get a pint. Tooeys is a local Australian beer. It isn’t good. Don’t bother. The bartender thought I was retarded and didn’t like me. Not very friendly. I stopped by Pint on Punt, an old fashioned English pub with a burning fireplace and had a Guinness. http://www.pintonpunt.com.au/

Later that night I went to my first social gathering I was invited to…on Chapel Street as well with lots of people, loud music, and dancing. Not a natural envrionment for me but fun all the same. I am the guy that people go “Oh you have to meet the American!” and then they come over and listen to me talk and tell how I test video games for a living and then tell my life story and then they go “Wow, that was very interesting. Honey what do you say we go over and talk to that other person and never talk to this freak again” She replies “Yes love, he really was an interesting chap, let’s get as far away as possible!” Somebody forced me to do my Australian imitation, which is me going “Oi mate! I’m Australian, Wubba wubba, wubba!” One sister just stared at me with her mouth open. No go. She was cute too. Check that one off my list. So I made my rounds and then stood alone in a corner for a while, finished my beer and walked home. I tell you, these people were beautiful and I truly love them. I was very happy to be with them for that brief time. I wrapped up the night by stopping by some posh bar I didn’t belong going into and had a beer. It was an interesting Saturday.

Here is a blury picture I took standing in my corner at the party: