(The last chapter was posted before this so if you weren't notified, read that first)
I'd like to tell you all, a little story.
When I was 19, my best friend at the time took me to this club in Melbourne, to see a guy she was having a fling with. It was a club I'd never been to before, and it was a very dingy rock and roll club with deep red lighting and very sticky floors.
This was me that particular night just before we left her house to go to this club, all those years ago.
Now when we got there, I was beside myself - I had never really been to a club like that before. As I was standing with my friend, I noticed a figure walking down the staircase from the upstairs section of the club and let me tell you - he was one of the most stunning men I'd seen in my life, right down to the long hair past his shoulders and leather jacket.
My best friend noticed me staring, and told the guy she was with who turned around and said 'Oh that's my best mate. I'll go bring him over'
Is this sounding familiar yet?
I was fucking MORTIFIED. Absolutely shitting my pants, that really was my worst nightmare. So when her friend went and got Mr. Dark and mysterious and they started to walk over, when the guy looked at me... I did the only thing I could think of.
I hid behind my friend. He watched me purposely and obviously side step, and hide behind her.
So I stood there, praying I'd drop dead any second, until I saw his shoes come into view on front of me and he tried talking to me, twirling my hair around his finger and telling me 'I really like your hair'.
I'm fairly sure I looked like I wanted to faint, or shit myself - probably both.
For some reason, this didn't deter him and he asked if I wanted to go with him while he had a smoke. I agreed, hoping I magically slipped and broke my neck on the way there.
However instead of taking me outside, he lead me back up the stairs and into the bathroom... Then took me into a toilet stall.
Very odd place to have a cigarette, I remember thinking.
He sat on the toilet, and I stood there with my back pressed against the stall door like a trapped petrified animal word vomiting the most ridiculous shumit my brain could come up with because frankly, I'd never done anything like that before and I have no clue how to talk to people I find attractive.
I make jokes, bad jokes and blurt out things that make me want to hurl myself into oncoming traffic.
You see, one part I left out of this - was the first time he tried to kiss me (I still can't figure out why, I was a fucking train wreck of a person in that situation) he pulled my to stand between his legs, and then grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me down.... To which I panicked (because I'd never done this whole hooking up in clubs with strangers shtick, and I panic in those situations in general).
So I ducked, and dodged the stood up straight and pet him... On the head. Like he was a puppy. I then apologised and said that I didn't know what I was doing.
Now, the unbelievable part is that whole catastrophe didn't deter him - he did end up standing, and cornering me against the door and kissing me (all of this was consensual I'm just socially fuckin brain dead) until security came to bang on the door.
He got my number and then left, and I had to fly home to a different state the next morning. I came back to Melbourne a month later and he had text me, and we organised to go out for the night.
My friend pointed out why he would be taking me out - the type of guy he was ect , and what the night would result in.
I'd never done something like that before, but ya never know if you don't try right? So off I went - to experience my first one night stand.
Here's that exact night, getting ready in my friends bathroom, wearing a dress I was super nervous about because I was a jeans and T-shirt kinda gal, know what I mean?
So, I meet him at a bar and I spend the night feeding him drinks every time he tried to talk because I was shitting bricks and didn't know what to do or say.
He was fairly well known, everyone seemed to know who he was and I didn't find out later he was actually the singer in a well known band in Melbourne back then, Plus, I guess he was just fairly popular in that crowd I guess.
Anyway, eventually we start walking back to his house and he hadn't tried anything all night but let's be honest I was still being an awkward rambling mess.
As we walked, I continued to word vomit from nerves until I was abrubtly cut off by him pushing me against a brick wall and kissing me.
Fast forward to getting to his place, he takes me inside and leads me upstairs to his room and when we get in there I notice something.
A large book case of VHS tapes.
I'm talking half a wall full, hundreds.
Thankfully these were just old movies... Or so I hope.
So then well you know, we erm... Well you know, one night stand and all.
I woke up the next morning, very sore and dazed; and thought to myself 'right, now it's the whole walk of shame thing. I just sneak out and get a taxi, this is what you see in the movies'
Unfortunately... He woke up, and offered (demanded) he drive me to the train station.
Again, my worst nightmare - what do you even say to say to someone the next day? What is post coitus chit chat with a stranger? I'm terrible at this!
So he drives me to the station, in uncomfortable silence and when we get there, I feel like it would only be polite to give him some money for fuel (gas) since he drove me there.
So. I do.
I pull cash out of my wallet and hand it to him, and watch him stare at me like I'm nuts, so then of course, I panic again.
Did he expect more money? I don't know how these things work.
All that I could do, was grab his hand - with an awkward handshake, say thank you and fucking leg it.
Unfortunately when I got to my friends house, and I told her everything that happened she pointed out I never told him why I gave him that money.
So if ya thought that chapter was embarrassing to read. TRY LIVING IT.
Fast forward again to three years later, I had moved to Melbourne and my boyfriend at the time was a body piercer at a tattoo studio and I hung out there occasionally.
One particular day, I was sitting out the front and got a text message on my phone and when I checked it... It was Mr. Dark and Mysterious from three years ago - the text message asked if I was sitting out the front of a tattoo studio.
I asked how he saw me and he said he lived just around the corner from the burger joint across the road.
I then got another text that asked me to 'come over'.
Unfortunately, I did not go over. But imagine if I did? Wouldn't that be an interesting story?
If you ever wondered what inspired Stall, there you go.
***
I'd just like to say again, THANK YOU to every single one of you for making this story so fuckin special.
Appreciate the shit out of you, and that you enjoy my bullshit.