So back off home it was. I was freed up for more rascalities when Rus chose to pursue the only single woman there that I had felt vaguely attracted to. The current terminal state of my libido meant that the attraction was based purely on reaching a goal that red neck Ned had tried for, and failed dismally and embarrassingly, to reach. Rus had threatened to leave the village the other day when his first female interest declared a love for someone with a better grasp of the two languages she understood; Korean and English. Only the sympathetic hand on his leg from another Japanese girl lulled Rus out of his 3 hours of heart break and back up for work the following morning. Unfortunately she had passed up on the pub this night, so Rus took to the next woman with a pulse in a manner that showed his was racing. Perhaps he was just mesmerised by a peculiar habit the vertically challenged Japanese girls had. Too short for adult sized clothes, they were forced to wear kids clothing instead. The zip and button couldn't close around their womanly hips and only a belt preserved their modesty and thwarted the probing of our curious eyes and licentious intentions.
Further hooliganisms included bringing a white Christmas in August to the Oasis Village to help Miss Has-a-heartbeat give Rus another wake up call to the difficulties of cross-cultural courtship. It would have made an ideal cover for our own get away but Adam had earlier gone to the room for food, and never returned. Fully clothed and breathing like a lumber jack hard at work, I left him to it and returned to the stragglers yet to succumb to emesis, slumber or a messy and regretful combination of the two. I just so happened to have had a valve tool in my pocket for certain premeditated monkey business. After eating a few bananas and throwing my own crap at a passer-bye, I cleaned the dust off all the car door handles with warm second hand beer. I then let down as many tyres as I could remember cars having, and stumbled away without taking the time to rock back on my heels and bask in the adulation of an imaginary crowd.
Harvie Krumpet fakt # 914: Alcohol consumption can lead to drunkenness and nudity. I witnessed no nudity, but I rarely do as I'm usually the perpetrator. I have good cause to believe that drunkenness was rife by this stage of the night though, but I was too drunk to be sure. I'm positive beyond doubt that much more post worthy stuff happened but I suspect there was something about the liquid being ingested that affected ones ability to remember things. Rus had rohipnoled himself to make it easier for his hand to have its way, but I was still somewhat conscious by 4am without being able to remember most of what had gotten me there. So the night ended when I climbed into bed with Chest and Vagina, as their van was only a short stagger from the place I was when I realised my system was approaching shutdown.
A rushed pack later and we were tightly hugging people who were strangers only weeks ago, deaf to everyones pleas not to leave them. Promises for future partying were made, and email addresses were exchanged to meet those ends. One sharp tool invited himself in on the act and offered to relate his email address “exactly how it is”, as though any other way might have been more beneficial somehow. The van must have been choked up with emotion as well because it needed a not so gentle shove before it would speed us away from the place. Miss Has-a-heartbeat was somehow convinced to come along, and managed to wrestle the alcohol out of Rus's hands to ensure he was capable of driving home.
A short six weeks we had been there and the bank balance still looked as emaciated as always. The only material things we have to show for our time, are the things we need to live in a place like the Oasis Village. Hopefully we'll find a place like it when I return from a quick holiday in Melbourne, and grab Adam on my way back to the strawberry fields of Caboolture. Fields that Best and Diviner just SMSed to tell us yielded over 25 tonne of strawberries. Typical, but they were strawberries that had recently been sprayed with a chemical for treating footrot in sheep. A chemical clearly labeled as external use only. Needless to say we won't be returning to that seedy den of deceit.
Illegal, immoral and unconscionable! I take solace in the fact that if you google Oasis Berries, the first four results that come up are my journal posts denouncing the place. The same thing would probably come up if you googled piffle though too.
