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Show Us Yer� Saturday night birthday celebrations continued: Starting off at The World in Kings Cross was interesting. They didn�t serve cocktails in jugs or shakers like other places but tea pots! Of course I had to order the Long Island Iced Tea to go in the pot. The World is a favourite of backpackers, especially Britsh ones (is there any other kind in Sydney?) which I thought was just brilliant cause I find it so interesting to meet people from other countries as opposed to telling the local sleaze balls to kindly stop grabbing your arse. As soon as we exited The World (8 tea pots later) we were given free passes into the place next door (Zen) which according the gang the only thing going for it was the bright pink toilets. After departing from there we got free passes into Sugareef of which I promptly ripped mine up. I don�t like the place and I made sure the door person saw that. I have my reasons. We walked up and down the main drag (collecting enough free passes from hawkers to never have to buy toilet paper again) trying to find somewhere else to dance, drink and/or be loud. Maccas and Hungry Jacks seemed appropriate for that purpose, although the drink of choice turned out to be a disappointing lemonade. It was shortly after our fast food visit that I convinced everyone we should take a crack at one of the strip clubs. They were tossing up the idea as we headed towards Show Girls but the door man convinced them by saying that there was one male stripper and we�d get a private show. Uh, huh � YEAH RIGHT! I searched the sky for pigs but everyone was convinced. I didn�t want to see a bloke strip anyway � it�s too funny. I figured I could pick up some pointers from the girls for future reference. I was disappointed to see that the strippers apparently were allowed to waive the we-must-have-large-obnoxious-breasts-clause in return for a nice butt. I was ready for all out silicon valley that I could have giggled at behind my drink. So instead I fixed my attentions on the pole that seemed to revolve instead of them spinning around it. They�d strike a pose and then watch the hair fly. I was quite impressed when the chick with the nice butt hang from it upside down. How much do you reckon it would cost for a contractor to put one of those in my room? After the club some of the others went back to the hotel but I wasn�t finished with the sleaziness of Kings Cross yet, oh no. So I led the troops into a porn/fetish shop where I admired the outfits, priced a whip, laughed at the porn titles and wondered how comfortable the rubber nurse outfit would be. Meanwhile Bec (whose birthday it was) found great interest in the stitching of my coat and refused to look up. Not wanting to know why all porn shops smell like body odour Tyd 7 May 2002 - 10:24 am |
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