Agnes Water, OZ
And the Good Times Keep on a Rollin'
It's 1ish in the afternoon, and the sunshine is sweating the alcohol out of people's pores, well, Sarah certainly. Last night may have again been even better than the week before. As Amy, Stef and I began selling Jell-O shot tickets during dinner last night (a somewhat difficult affair, do you know how to explain Jell-O in four languages), Lindsay arrived to let us know that there'd been a venue change. Apparently, all of Agnes Water knew about our Friday Night Fiesta, the kid at the gas station was giving directions to someone in front of cops at one point. Yep, a new place was definitely needed. We ended up at Paul the Caterers place. There are at least 4 Paul's whom I know here in Agnes, which seems like a lot. Anyway, we got to Paul's and things began to swing. Everyone was in good cheer, and few felt like leaving. At one point, Annika was imitating a penguin for 2o minutes as we tried in vain to figure out what she was, "A duck? An emu? A walrus? Very small rocks?" It was good fun. Lindz made up 60 Jell-O shots and Greg'd been sloshing out the Dahoo (Daaa-Hoooo!) punch beforehand. At various intervals during the evening, Paul'd appear with the next dish he'd whipped up, and Greg took over the job of Garcon, his shirt drapped over his forearm. Yes, thing's definitely had a swing to them.
The last troop carrier of drunken sods (Stef, Greg, Sarah, Ed (ooh, he was cooked), and myself among them) arrived back at Cool Banana's at 4am. That's a record in the four weeks that I've been here. I finally went to bed sometime after sunrise. And I wasn't the only one.
I think I'm slowly falling into the job here at the hostel that I seem eminently qualified for, Activities Director. Questions about tours, changing your flights, this weekend's party, when the naked beach van tour's going, these all seem things I'm fit to handle. But weekend's here are just so fun. Charlie in Raglan had it right when he said he only went to parties where he could see the stars overhead. There's something great about partying outside, and the skies here are rife with shooting stars. The Heavens Baby.
My plan for the day is to get to the beach and get in the water. That's about it. Beyond that, I'm hoping to get a massage later, and have a nice steak for dinner. It's a tough, tough life.
It's 1ish in the afternoon, and the sunshine is sweating the alcohol out of people's pores, well, Sarah certainly. Last night may have again been even better than the week before. As Amy, Stef and I began selling Jell-O shot tickets during dinner last night (a somewhat difficult affair, do you know how to explain Jell-O in four languages), Lindsay arrived to let us know that there'd been a venue change. Apparently, all of Agnes Water knew about our Friday Night Fiesta, the kid at the gas station was giving directions to someone in front of cops at one point. Yep, a new place was definitely needed. We ended up at Paul the Caterers place. There are at least 4 Paul's whom I know here in Agnes, which seems like a lot. Anyway, we got to Paul's and things began to swing. Everyone was in good cheer, and few felt like leaving. At one point, Annika was imitating a penguin for 2o minutes as we tried in vain to figure out what she was, "A duck? An emu? A walrus? Very small rocks?" It was good fun. Lindz made up 60 Jell-O shots and Greg'd been sloshing out the Dahoo (Daaa-Hoooo!) punch beforehand. At various intervals during the evening, Paul'd appear with the next dish he'd whipped up, and Greg took over the job of Garcon, his shirt drapped over his forearm. Yes, thing's definitely had a swing to them.
The last troop carrier of drunken sods (Stef, Greg, Sarah, Ed (ooh, he was cooked), and myself among them) arrived back at Cool Banana's at 4am. That's a record in the four weeks that I've been here. I finally went to bed sometime after sunrise. And I wasn't the only one.
I think I'm slowly falling into the job here at the hostel that I seem eminently qualified for, Activities Director. Questions about tours, changing your flights, this weekend's party, when the naked beach van tour's going, these all seem things I'm fit to handle. But weekend's here are just so fun. Charlie in Raglan had it right when he said he only went to parties where he could see the stars overhead. There's something great about partying outside, and the skies here are rife with shooting stars. The Heavens Baby.
My plan for the day is to get to the beach and get in the water. That's about it. Beyond that, I'm hoping to get a massage later, and have a nice steak for dinner. It's a tough, tough life.
posted by Bob Stein at 7:14 PM
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