My Lack of Stories

Pre-drinks

Bus ride to the first pub

One of the pubs (don't remember)

Outside the Grand

Ivory

In my life I have come to find that to remember a good story, you have to not drink past your limits.  That being the case, I have a limited amount to blog about.  However, what I do remember is amazing.  First off, I got to experience my first keriokee bar.  Luckily it was only the second bar, so I hadn't have enough liquid courage to climb atop the stage.  Topping the keriokee bar was when my lips met what is sure to be the best drunk food my taste buds have ever had the pleasure of contacting.  That my friends, is the cabab.  A fluffy flour tortilla crammed with all the meat, lettuce, onions, and god knows what else coming together to form a river of juices that cascade down your arm and into your awaiting lap.  It's fricken awesome, and one of the major drunk foods that America didn't get right.  I came to meet my friend the cabab between the third and fourth bar, well into the drinking.  However after this, the night took a negative turn.  First I came in contact with an American girl on the dance floor.  See in Australia, there is no bumping and grinding.  The common term of "getting low" is unheard of (shout out to alyssa, cassie, jack, and the fucking weird crew).  It is an understatement saying that I was caught off guard when this girls gigantic rump hit me right in the chest.  But somehow in my drunken state, I rode that ass like a bronco.  Hilarious.  Then came a scary moment in my life.  A time when I felt the vulnerability of a tiny drunk girl.  I was led to the bar, hand in hand, by a large swedish man.  When I say hand in hand, I mean fingers laced.  Did I have any choice but to follow? Not with that vice grip.  He proceeded to buy me a drink.  Fucking right I took it.  It was more than just a free drink though.  It was an opportunity to broaden my horizons into that of a woman being hit on by a creepy guy.  I have a new found sympathy for every girl out there that has gone through the experience.  I now agree.  Take the drink.  Bars are too expensive.  After this the night is quite hazy.  A dark bus ride home.  A long walk up the stairs with the soft support of a cement wall.  Goon is a wonderful thing....until the next day.  With that as the drink of choice, many classes are going to be missed.  All in all, my first pub crawl was a success.