Trashbag Tales

Whilst I was in Wollongong visiting TheGrrl I had every intention of bashing out a post but when it came to the crunch I was sitting in an un-airconditioned internet cafe surrounded by hardcore WoW geeks nursing a serious hangover so I admitted defeat because none of those conditions, let alone when in combination with each other gets anyone’s creative juices flowing.

I am a self-confessed grandma. I don’t much like going out, I’m not a huge drinker, I only do drugs occasionally and frankly I would much rather spend my Saturday night at home on the couch with my knitting and a movie. TheGrrl however is a unabashed social butterfly with a wide circle of friends all of whom love to go out and party the night away. After many, many, many jokes about my status as resident pensioner I finally cracked and agreed to go out with TheGrrl and her friends on Saturday night.

After I cooked a huge batch of burritos to make sure everyone had something lining their stomachs and we had spent a sufficient amount of time drinking, smoking and catching up, the pussy posse comprising of TheGrrl and I, TheGrrl’s two best friend’s and their sort of respective partners headed out to Castro’s self proclaimed gay bar. Once we arrived the night is mostly a blur of cigarettes, intermittent dancing, a couple of drag shows and some slightly seedy bathroom sex with a nice American woman. Of course, because the group was comprised entirely of queer women there was the requisite drama, screaming matches and make-up sex but once everyone had found someone to take home TheGrrl and I trudged home to do what I would have much rather have been doing the entire night; snuggling up in bed.

What seemed like just a few seconds later the sun was up and streaming in through the windows, much to my chagrin and I was up for the day. After a giant glass of water and an even bigger Berocca TheGrrl and I headed to the mall to forage for food and suss out the happenings of the night before. Satisfied with my All Berry Bang and my girl by my side we wandered around before heading back to the house for some study and a siesta neither of which ended up eventuating because one by one the pussy posse found its way back to the house to sprawl on the carpet and dissect the night before. If only you didn’t have to leave the house in order to be party to the good trash-bag tales I would be a happy girl.