The Valley

Previously, our German compadre' known as BorrusiaSaan had not really done anything particularly notable in this blog. Most of the stories were about the idiotic situations JingleLad and myself found ourselves in. Now, that has changed and BorrusiaSaan makes a beautiful appearance in a tale entirely of his own making, one which allows an insight into his charming personality. 

I had finished my work in the wee hours of the morning and was heading home for a well deserved kip. I knew the boys were out and on the prowl as they stopped by the work earlier to say how doo. I wished them luck and they were on their way, a hop skip and a jump to the local backpackers bar which stays open till 5am. Alls well and good so far.
I made it home sound and was just getting ready to head to bed, and as I come out of the bathroom BorrusiaSaan greets me with a mischievous grin. Never mind the fact I nearly keeled over with fright, but I did manage to observe with my astute detective skills that BorrusiaSaan might be slightly inebriated. Just possibly. The fact he was holding himself upright on a bedpost was my first clue. I was curious as well as to why he was home relatively early, and still grinning away to himself. Then I clicked to the fact he might not be quite home alone, and had done rather well for himself in the classy backpackers establishment. Man points to BorrusiaSaan you would think, but read on...

So I put the earphones in, thinking that would be the only way I would drift off to sleep that night, and left BorrusiaSaan to his prey. Halfway through The Killers on my iPod I could just about make out my comrade muttering "Why!?" in a bemused voice.

'Well if anything is going to be funny tonight, this is it.' I thought to myself, and pulled out the headphones to eavesdrop on the discussion BorrusiaSaan was having with the poor girl. After a brief 15 seconds of them talking, even I could work out things were not going the way BorrusiaSaan had planned. Let's just say the girl was not as keen as he was, and our poor German colleague was a bit gutted at this. Sad, but utterly hilarious for me sitting listening to him getting shot down. I considered trying to film what could well be one of the lowest points in my friend's life, and maybe send it to his parents like the good friend I am. The camera being too far away, I decided to just sit there and quietly chortle.

BorrusiaSaan was growing in confusion, and the conversation across the room was now basically him repeating, "WTF...?" every so often. Hostel entertainment at it's very finest. He eventually decided he'd had enough, and in a heart-warming display of chivalry, the gentleman informed the young lady that he would like her to leave and find her her own way home. So basically she had to leave the hostel room at 2.30am, in the dark, try ignore the Scotsman creasing himself with laughter on the bed opposite, and find her friends in the nearby pub. Not the best of nights for her or BorrusiaSaan, but one that was brilliantly entertaining for me. 

I did manage to witness a fantastic method of acquiring yourself a taxi as well. We were looking to grab one asap to head into the valley (area where pubs and clubs are) and we were struggling. JingleLad decides to take matters into his own hands and simply runs out screaming in front of the next taxi he sees, like a nethanderthal chasing a rabbit. Unsurprisingly, the taxi quickly sped off and left us again stranded. He informs us the next time he'll plan it better. As the next taxi is going by he's already in the middle of the road, ready to meet it head on. It was like a massively unfair game of chicken, drunk human versus metal car. The taxi driver veered to the right to ensure he wouldn't run JingleLad over, but our boy had anticipated this and made the same move. This carried on for a couple of seconds until the driver eventually stopped and told us to get in. JingleLad was proud as punch with himself after that, and now heralds this strategy as a foolproof way to get a taxi. Still, can't really see him promoting that to Duncan Bannantyne in the den. 

We've came up with a challenge for Christmas Eve as well. The objective is to see who can wake up in the most random place imaginable on Christmas morning. So far, there's 12 people signed up from the hostel, with targets being named as the jail, hospital, a golf course, or Sydney. Could be interesting. One of the Welsh lads isn't too fussed about where he ends up, he's just aiming for distance and trying to get as far away from the hostel as possible. Be pretty difficult for him to get back as well, public transport not being the best on Christmas. I thought a class scenario would be if you went home with someone and ended up having to spend a very awkward Christmas day in their house, trying desperately to make light conversation through the turkey dinner. I really hope that happens to either BorrusiaSaan or JingleLad, that's all I want for Christmas. 

We've also unearthed a slightly illegal way to make money as well over here. It's not JingleLad returning to his earlier employment selling his body, but this time him utilising his musical talents in Brisbane City Centre. He's been out busking with the bagpipes, and making a small fortune doing so. However, the only bad point about this is apparently you need a license to busk in Brisbane, which of course we don't have. We did some minor mathematics last night and worked out at his current rate, if he starts at 9, makes $80 an hour, get caught and fined $300 by 2pm, we're still comfortably winning. All in all a good days work and a fair contribution to the polis' night out, which they can only be happy about. 

Have a good Christmas!