Winning at Pool and Losing at Dancing (Part 3) – Mad Chaos: March 8, 1999

Beating Ralf at Pool

Meridian was a sorry story and because it was so blatantly boring we made our way up to the pool tables to challenge each other to a game. Now I’m not a very good pool player and compared to Ralf’s boastful stories, I was below an amateur. Despite this unbalanced rivalry and classing, Ralf and I had a bout where he took the first breaking shot.

Not sinking any in it was my inexperienced turn and I was happy and surprised when I sunk a ball in first go, the shot was pretty hart too. The next was just as great as I sunk another and with my confidence on a high I wasn’t too let down when my third shot was led astray by inches. The next couple of shots I yielded to Ralf’s experience as he pretended to be a professional with his poker face. However, our game kept going and I kept sinking and near the end, the only balls that were standing were one of mine, one of his and the black ball.

We both took a couple of shots trying to sink our ball in but despite my inexperience I sunk my colored ball in first and then with great strength, the black ball was hammered into the side pocket. Winning the game I was surprised and content to throw shame into Ralf’s face and I knew he was mentally bruised and his pride had been tethered to his shame because he didn’t want to have another game. With pride that I had beaten Ralf at his preferred best and shamed him from his wannabe gloating status we made our way back to our former seating arrangement.

The Worst DJ Ever

The time had crept up to 11:15 p.m. and it looked as if the fifty strong crowd was as large as it was possibly going to get. There were no more than ten people dancing around on the floor and this I feel was due to the shit DJ. From all the places I’ve ever been to both Ralf and I agreed that he was playing the worst mix ever.

He was so predictable with his lame selection that Ralf (Who was a DJ at one stage) picked out what songs he would play next. This made me think if Ralf was guessing them because he played the same shit selection, it wouldn’t be too far off the truth. Ralf always boasts how he’s was the best DJ and he was able to scratch mad beats together but hearing him at his 21st birthday I know that he’s only eating away on already eaten food, he was dribbling shit.

Pressured was I from Ralf to head out onto the relatively uninhabited dance floor and as the DJ was finally playing a decent dance song I said “If the next song is as good as this we’ll jump up”. For the whole night we hadn’t danced and that’s new to me but I didn’t want to jump up to some lame song and dance to it with ten people. Ralf and I would be the only guys up there apart from two idiots who couldn’t dance and because my clothes stuck out (Being all dressed up for this lower class place) I knew that I would stick out like a big toe, next to Ralf anyway.

Dancing to Britney

The next song was worse off and people who had jumped up to dance jumped back off the dance floor. Ralf was upset that he wouldn’t get to dance because of the shit DJ and I just wanted to avoid the dance floor at all costs but because Ralf was pressuring me to dance and the ‘Britney Spears’ song that I like called ‘Babe one more time’ came on I knew I had to jump up.

There wasn’t much of a crowd when we did jump up and I did stick out like a big toe but what was worse was Ralf’s completely different dancing style to everyone. I know I put plenty of shit on Ralf in my Diary but I just tell it like it is and how different things affect me. Ralf stood out in the crowd because he was the only black person and he was taller than all.

On top of that his larger Samoan body and Hawaii shirt made everyone think he was an overgrown quack. Add onto that his 80’s break dancing where I thought he was trying to imitate ‘Major Pain’ I wanted to pretend I was there alone. Ralf was having a rowdy old time and as usual, he needed all the space he could get. With body parts flying here and there from him people were glad to get out of his way and considering there weren’t many to begin with, Ralf’s flying hands and feet were free to breathe.

For three songs we danced up there and in all that time I was the most uncomfortable that I have ever been at a nightclub. Because there were only a little bit of people I felt like everyone sitting down was looking at me dancing and I don’t think I’m being paranoid because Ralf and I stuck out.

Although the girls were looking at us as if they wanted to eat us (Well some of the less modest ones) I still felt uneasy because I couldn’t adjust quick enough to the music. Usually I’m straight into music and dancing away but that night I couldn’t find my groove and I was afraid to move my hands any further than my waist.

Four Speeds of Life

I’m now going to repeat in here what I said to Ralf once and noted about before. My philosophy to Ralf in his car a couple of nights ago was that there are four speeds to life. There is hyper speed, second gear, first gear and reverse. Hype speed is for those people that rush everything in their day, they are always doing something. Second gear is the moderate speed, where everything gets done in a day at a moderate and good pace.

First gear is like cruise control, where you take it a little easier than usual but you still have a hastiness about you. Then there is reverse where things seem like they are moving at a snails pace or not at all. In my opinion, Ralf’s speed in life is a scenic route reverse and I am that second gear, sometimes that first gear. That is Ralf as his usual self where he takes an hour and a half more than his usual estimated time and the words ‘Scenic Route’ are embedded in his pea sized brain.

Then there’s his time on the dance floor and to me, that is when Ralf changed gear to hyper and I stay in relative first gear. My style of dancing to Ralf’s is completely different and I don’t know how I’ve survived these past few weeks of the two of us just going out together. Making a pact now, I hope from this day forth that I will never go out alone with just Ralf. If there is a divine creator, let him create more humanity for our nightclub tribe and let not Ralf be the only one that dances beside me of a night.

One Last Dance Alone

Nearing midnight the both of us wanted to head out of there because it was boring but before we did Ralf walked up to the dance floor by himself and had one more dance. Not wanting to make a fool of myself I watched Ralf do it instead. Making his way to the stage he kept looking at me every couple of second and giving me facial gestures or just looking like a dancing baboon.

Trying to fit into the crowd I really don’t think he accomplished that and when the song was over I walked half way to him to save him face and embarrassment, something he probably wasn’t aware of. Jumping straight into his car we didn’t ponder a second to hang around Hurstville. Rather, we headed back home on our early night feeling cheated of our night as it was so bad.

On the way home Keith pranked Ralf’s phone which was turned off for most of the night, he didn’t prank back. Wondering how Keith’s Catholic Club party was gathering I wish I had the foresight that I had today, let me share. Shawn and Tatton had to walk there because Keith didn’t drive his car and basically all they done was visit the Catholic Club and then head home around 1:30 a.m. The time that Keith called would have been nearing the end of their night.

KFC and a Familiar Face

Once back in Campbelltown Ralf visited his favorite binge hangout, KFC. As if Déjà vu had stricken me, we headed to the same eating gallery where people could walk past the giant bear to watch him eating in his exhibit at the front of the Commonwealth Bank. The time was near 2:00 a.m. when we made our way to Queen Street so Ralf could eat.

While there I noticed Mikaere walking down the street with shorts to the knees and a see through top on. With my back to him at first he was walking to Ralf as he had seen him from up the street and as he turned to see who I was he was stunned at how differently I looked to him.

“How are you doing” he asked me in his accepting voice and as I responded I knew that he thought I looked very different, that’s because I did. Chatting only for a few seconds to Ralf he made his way down to the little eatery near the crossing by himself. His calves pumping as he walked reminded me of Gerald who used to train at Feeling Fit with me and a person who I also talked to on Friday afternoon in Campbelltown (If that was the day I handed in my money).

Ted From School

A blast from the past walked up just like last week but instead of being Arnold it was a guy called Ted from school. I remember meeting him through Jett and Fred back then and with his long hair and goatee but being around my height and a little skinnier now, he was someone I hung out with on occasion at school.

He’s the Metallica and Nirvana type guy and although he was two years under my grade we had chats at school. He asked if I knew of any places that would let them in after the curfew time of 1:30 a.m. but in Campbelltown I knew of none. Telling him to try the old Randy Ranch he made his way up there also looking for his friends. Seraphine was down there with all the old Airds High School girls including the one that I had an attraction to, Cecily.

While driving I did see her in her white butt tight pants and believe me, her ass was the bomb but knowing that she’s had a kid and lives like a housing commission specialist, that brought me back to the already close earth. Ted came back down the street minutes later with two ladies walking with him. One of them looked as if they were with him and the other who was somewhat attractive was just with them.

She Only Wanted Ralf

Ted walked past and told me he couldn’t get in so I thought to mention ‘Two Moon Junction’ because I knew it was free entry after 3:00 a.m. The straggling girl then turned around with put on interest and as she started to ask dumb questions about ‘Two Moon Junction’ I knew she was only doing it to chat with us. Standing around four meters away from them she looked as if she wanted to step closer with each word of her mouth and our basic conversation was her continually saying “Really, is it open until then, do you really think we’ll get in” in her naïve way.

You could see she was edging to walk closer so I done the deed and made the first step in which she made her way towards me and Ralf who was sitting down just finished from eating his food. What surprised me is that Ralf took over telling her the obvious and completely forgetting me she walked to Ralf and kept up with the same circulating words.

If this was all she could do to get closer and into our conversation, she was really shit. It looked as if she liked Ralf and I gathered it was because he was black and not because he just stuffed his face with half a horse and a couple of sheep. Despite this interest and total disregard of me we shunned her off and she was back on her way. This surprised me in a way and even though I didn’t think myself great looking, I was brought back to earth on many points of feminine taste. These clothes and this gelled hair won’t go well with everyone and on occasion, a woman likes that bigger black boy in her bargain basement.

Bald Tires and Home

Nearing 3:00 a.m. Ralf started to get paranoid about the police driving around and pulling people over and because he had two bald tires we headed home. This frustrated me in a way because Ralf stood just as much chance of getting caught leaving when he did as opposed to leaving after Chevy’s had come out but he’s naïve.

So for that reason we missed out on the score of women to head out and rather, we headed home to our empty beds. Loathing our sudden retreat, I could only cope with the simpleton’s mind, not dwell upon his simpleton acts. However, on our way out we noticed Lucas and Simon and we chatted to them for a couple of seconds before leaving. An important piece of information for the time’s, it was Lucas’s birthday on Friday. Getting back home at 3:00 a.m. I kept myself awake until around 5:00 a.m. and then got myself some early sleep.