Big Racks In the Outback

Name: Vee

Age: 27

So it was my first time out on deployment with the Navy and after several months of frustration at sea, (you can’t drink on the weekends??) we get to Darwin and I decide that I am going to party my ass off!  I had reserved a hotel room for myself, since I hadn’t gotten to walk around naked in waaay too long, and if I split the room with one of my girls I wouldn’t be able to do so.  I drop my stuff in the room and since it was before noon, decided I had time to go and get my hair done. I meet up with my girls and we wander the town and finally decide on a hair shop.  We go in and sit down and before we know it, we’re looking like real girls again, instead of refugees from third world countries. The one hairdresser there is jumping around and getting us all done at the same time, and we’re all talking about the navy and the deployment and what-not when he suggests we get some booze.  Sweet!

One of the girls he hadn’t started on yet was given $150 out of his pocket to run to the corner liquor store and get champagne and cups.  She comes back hauling tons of the good stuff and get started on it.  About four hours later, our hair is looking good, the booze is gone and we’re all tanked already. The hairdresser, (forgive me but I can’t remember his name) invites us out to a local hotspot with him later in the evening.  He tells us the name of the place and we agree to meet him at a certain time.

We hobble around trying to find our way back to the hotel, when a passing cabbie takes pity on us and returns us safely to our curling irons and shoes.  I return to my room, to find a friend sitting outside looking like her puppy just died, only to find out that her deployment boyfriend is being a douche, so I bring her inside and we proceed to empty the mini-bar while she cries and I make sympathetic noises while attempting to get dressed to go out.  He calls and apologizes and she leaves back to her room, and dammit!  I just got dressed to kill and I can’t wander around naked yet!

No matter, more friends drop by bearing wine and cuban cigars, so we sit on the patio and enjoy life for a while until it’s time to meet up with the hairdresser for more drinks.  We get to the bar, and dang, this guy looks yummy all dressed up and stuff.  He’s insisting on buying everyone drinks and shots and keeps pulling me on the dance floor to shake my stuff.  The night is getting blurrier by the hour, but the music is good, the drinks are stiff and, wait, what?  So is the hairdresser? But I thought he was gay!?!

Now he’s telling me how he wants to get a green cad to come to America to become a lawyer, but he can’t get a green card, so the only way over for him would be to get married.  Then he’s telling me about his kids (which are maybe 2 or 3 years younger than ME) and how he really wants to have more kids but his wife died a few years ago, and I look a lot like her when they first met, and wooooow way to weird for me!

Ok, I stagger to the bathroom to pee, and end up puking as well.  A couple of times.  I pull myself together and head back out to tell my friends that its time to leave when I realize that I don’t even know where they are!  I’m wandering around the bar for what feels like forever, but I can’t find any of them, not even the creepy hairdresser.  Fuck it, I think, I’m going back to room, get naked and pass out.  I walk out of the bar and try to find a cab.  I sit at the taxi stand for about 3 cigarettes and then give up and start walking in the general direction of my  hotel.

I walk, in heels, what I later find out to be about 5 miles to get back to my hotel. (I have scars on the top of my feet now from the straps digging in, making blisters, popping blisters, and digging in some more)  I go up to my room, strip off my clothes and lay down on the bed. As soon as my head hit’s the pillow, I hear someone banging on my door.  Dammit, I just want to sleep now, but I put on the hotel robe, and answer the door where my friend is.

She’s yelling at me for leaving them, hugging me because I’m safe and then telling me that the hairdresser is downstairs right now, ready to have a good time with me.  I tell her that I thought he was gay, and now I think he’s downright creepy, and shes telling me that he’s sweet and I really do need to get laid at the least so why not.

I have a hard time going more than a day without sex, so 3 months was really killer for me!) I consider her thought process, but have sobered up enough on the walk back to know that although sex would be great, I don’t need the kind of clingy baggage it would bring with it. So I do what any smart and now mostly sober girl would do in the situation: I lied. I told her I had already found another guy that wasn’t old enough to be my father, and that he was waiting for me in the room.  Her eyes light up, all happy for me and she gives me a high five.  “Go get him girl!” She says and shes gone.

I close the door, rip off the robe and pass out in my kind size bed.  I walk around naked the rest of the next day only opening the door once for room service, and thanking my lucky stars that Room service served Mimosas.  Crisis averted, and I ended up drinking an entire drunken day for free.  Not bad for my first day in Australia.

Dear Vee, your behaviour was completely acceptable except for the part where you didn’t get laid.  Haven’t you ever heard the term “the riper the berry, the sweeter the juice”?  Next time a 40 year old hair dresser wants to knock boots, the least you could do is tug him off.

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