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Australia - Land of Griff
Last night I went to a joint birthday party held by a couple of high-school friends, Jordan and Andrew. The even was held at Jordan's place because it has become a routine spot for gatheirngs over the years due to his spacious backyard and a garage that's separate from the main house.
For a while I was worried the evening would degenerate into a series of group conversations filled with flurries of half-finished anecdotes, each one being forgotten part-way through or interrupted with a new tangent and a life of its own. All the while you and the only other sober person are periodically signalling each other like this.
Then my good friend Griff showed up. It was a genuine surprise as he had declined the invitation to attend due to work
"It's the rainy season up in the mines so I basically rocked up the other day and they said 'We can't do shit with this weather, you want a week off work?'"
So he hopped on a Qantas flight down to Melbourne from Queensland for his good friend's birthday and rocked up with a supply of Overproof Bundaberg rum. At last, it was story time. I asked what he had been up to and he brushed through the social pleasantry of the question in no time.
"Getting a scuba diving certification so I can get a job doing underwater welding next year. They only work 3 months of the year but they pay a shitload and you can only do the job for 3 or 4 years,"
I asked him why and he let out a chuckle.
"Hydrogen buildup in your bones. You remember Roy, right?" He was done with the topic and now it was time for a story. Roy was his mother's husband, I couldn't forget the man after hearing Griff talk about his attempt to use expired sticks of dynamite as fireworks.
"I went to my Mum's place one night and when I was pulling up the driveway I saw Roy run out of the house with a .223 rifle. I figured 'Oh shit, somethin' serious is about to happen, so I hop out of the car and start chasin' after him. I close the gate behind me, he looks around and spots me before darting around to the side of the house. I'm just about to turn the corner when I hear BANG, BANG, BANG! Then I just hear Roy yell 'Ha, fuckin' got 'em!' I ask him what the fuck's going on and he says 'It was a fuckin' Huntsman!'"
"I said to him 'You used a gun that fires ammunition that costs a dollar per bullet to kill a spider?' he just said 'Well I wanted to make sure he was dead, didn't I!?'"
More stories to come...
For a while I was worried the evening would degenerate into a series of group conversations filled with flurries of half-finished anecdotes, each one being forgotten part-way through or interrupted with a new tangent and a life of its own. All the while you and the only other sober person are periodically signalling each other like this.
Then my good friend Griff showed up. It was a genuine surprise as he had declined the invitation to attend due to work
"It's the rainy season up in the mines so I basically rocked up the other day and they said 'We can't do shit with this weather, you want a week off work?'"
So he hopped on a Qantas flight down to Melbourne from Queensland for his good friend's birthday and rocked up with a supply of Overproof Bundaberg rum. At last, it was story time. I asked what he had been up to and he brushed through the social pleasantry of the question in no time.
"Getting a scuba diving certification so I can get a job doing underwater welding next year. They only work 3 months of the year but they pay a shitload and you can only do the job for 3 or 4 years,"
I asked him why and he let out a chuckle.
"Hydrogen buildup in your bones. You remember Roy, right?" He was done with the topic and now it was time for a story. Roy was his mother's husband, I couldn't forget the man after hearing Griff talk about his attempt to use expired sticks of dynamite as fireworks.
"I went to my Mum's place one night and when I was pulling up the driveway I saw Roy run out of the house with a .223 rifle. I figured 'Oh shit, somethin' serious is about to happen, so I hop out of the car and start chasin' after him. I close the gate behind me, he looks around and spots me before darting around to the side of the house. I'm just about to turn the corner when I hear BANG, BANG, BANG! Then I just hear Roy yell 'Ha, fuckin' got 'em!' I ask him what the fuck's going on and he says 'It was a fuckin' Huntsman!'"
"I said to him 'You used a gun that fires ammunition that costs a dollar per bullet to kill a spider?' he just said 'Well I wanted to make sure he was dead, didn't I!?'"
More stories to come...