Hellish night.

Hellish night. - Page 2

sassy

240 Posts

January 21 2010 05:22 GMT

#21

omg! sick story, definitely an experience, esp for beard guy

On January 21 2010 02:11 The_Australian wrote:
and had the worst 10 hour trip he'll ever have in his life
Now its time for sleep.

who knows, who knows. You guys only 18?

that drink cant be absinthe right? Just because your friend didnt eat anything and didnt sleep for 40 hours technically this is possible

lazz

Australia3119 Posts

January 21 2010 06:47 GMT

#22

On January 21 2010 13:00 madnessman wrote:

Show nested quote +

Haha aww Indecent Lemon! He sounds like such a rational guy, trying to apply reason and practicality to the situation, but his efforts are completely thwarted each time. He is no match for the intoxicated and determined albeit delusional Beard~

lol i love this post

Bobbin Threadbare

Australia30 Posts

September 16 2012 10:52 GMT

#23

Thank you The_Australian for such a good telling, this is 'Indecent Lemon' here of the story-blog above. Having just discovered that my good friend Straya had done this write up, I'm reminded of many things that I'd actually forgotten - and compelled to add a few missing details myself. Sure it was years ago, but the tale possesses the strength unto itself to go well beyond the tender time of '10.

The liquor that caused Beard to trip so atmospherically out was clear like vodka, not necessarily of Portuguese origin and, according to Adam, belonged to his two "gay housemates". As payback for their having been acting altogether too gay of late around the apartment, he took this bottle from their desk that night (they were out clubbing) and reasonably had no idea what was actually in there. When we arrived the bottle was 3/4 full. Adam drank another 1/4 or so over the hour we spent on his balcony. Beard drank almost all of the remaining half bottle, but in truth Kern and Oatsy also partook - it was being passed around of course - just odd swigs. And they weren't affected in any way they were aware of. Strange stuff.

A few character notes just for flavour:
(Everyone mentioned in the story either lives or has lived in Melbourne since, so with home only a taxi-drive away, a night like this, thankfully, could never really happen to us again)

Beard: Gentle and good natured to the core, with an often-trying penchant for argument solely for its own sake. Had indeed read Cat's Cradle without a wink of sleep the night before planning to going out in the city, and was truly in a volatile mood well before consuming any strange foreign elixirs. Widely known as a one pot-screamer, the mix of frustration at being forced to wear uncomfortable and ill-fitting clothes, deep hunger, exhaustion, being flat out broke and, later, losing his empty wallet, all combined with alcohol alone was enough to put him in a foul, defensive, loud mood. And so it would.

Deejay: Keen drinker and experienced Melbourne-goer. Probably the most "cosmopolitan" of the group, along with Erin. Both had smart phones, knew of some records stores around the CBD, EB Games, kebab places, bars etc

Erin: Tall skinny skater, cruel sense of humour, natural sense of direction, loves having something to brag about -
after he and Deejay had left us as babies in the street for the comforts of a near-by backpackers, we tried numerous times to call and text both of them, in the hopes that they may direct us to beds alongside their own. Without at least Erin's sense of direction we were unconditionally fucked. In a cold and calculated blow, they actively denied our calls and ignored our messages in what was actually a hilarious joke for them. Of course no grudges were held.

Dirty Dog: Antagonistic and offensive is Dirty Dog's style, and he loves it. Well before stumbling across the term on the internet, my friends and I had often trolled Dog by calling him just that, a troll. He was just a natural, and only The Australian could ever stay cool when the shit came down. Of course this night was no exception - Beard, who loves a petty argument, was wound up to the point of yelling threats plainly in small clean pubs once Dirty Dog had casually shot the bull a little too close to home. It really was a hellish night.

Oatsy and Kern were just solid soldiers this night, drinking and smiling and pushing through the hours as Beard spun out of control. Props to them for just trying to do their bit and help mete out the weight evenly.

Up until realising Beard was speaking of a reality not our own, it really had been a decent night. Just walking around looking for an open bottle shop was relaxing even for Beard, and at one point we had energy enough to walk aimlessly around Crown casino, until the feel of no clocks and no windows started getting to us.
Contrary to Straya's account, I'd say we left Adam's around 4, and it took around 30 minutes for any real far out stuff to manifest in Beard's mind. At least to the point where we could tell. But we really just wanted to believe he was unfathomably drunk, even when he was asking for "Aboriginal water" (later confirmed to have meant aboriginal semen, though they were two aboriginal women he was accosting) from strangers and trying to buy pizza from a closed jewellery store.
Once we had accepted that he really was tripping out on one substance or another, there was almost 3 hours until the first train - 7:15AM - back to our home town. You who asks why we chose not to call an ambulance, good question. We all believed firmly at this point that though he may threaten us he would do no violent act toward us, he still knew who we were distinctly and was merely pointing out that he could kill each of us had he the whim. And he could walk, breathe, sometimes even speak quietly, plus his knowledge of the universe of Cat's Cradle was pretty impressive considering his mindstate. So we thought, with Oatsy Kern Dirty Dog Straya and I vigilant and diplomatic, getting him on the train and eventually in to his own bed would be best.

Once Beard was in police custody, Kern and Dirty Dog caught the train home - the 8:15, Beard's karate attack on the Southern Cross security guard took place mere minutes before our train left - as they were exhausted and well deserving of rest. But Beard really did have no idea where anything was in Melbourne. If we didn't wait for his release and take him with us on whatever train we could, it would have meant us explaining it to one of his parents, maybe have one of them drive to pick him up. Despite all the horror of seeing one of our oldest and best friends losing his own self and attacking another person... Contemplating telling his parents this story was, for me, the scariest part of all.

Melbourne is one hell of a city.

[UoN]Sentinel

United States11320 Posts

September 16 2012 23:05 GMT

#24

Thank you both for sharing this gem. For some reason I feel a little more complete after reading the story.

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