Alarms, Punks, and Jaz Oh My!
Trip Start
Oct 04, 2005
1
4
62
Trip End
Ongoing
Brisbane,
Australia
Monday, October 17, 2005
But since Jaz is only a nighttime thing, I've had to amuse myself during the day, so I've been going into the city and walking around exploring. The other day I came back and no one was home, and I knew I had to face what I had been dreading for days...the alarm system. I got my keys ready so I could quickly open the two doors and then punch in the code before the alarm went off. I felt like I was preparing for something out of Mission Impossible. I had repeated the code in my head many times, so I was sure that I would at least get that part right, but it was all in the timing. Taking a deep breath, I put my key in the door number one and turned...but it wouldn't open. Oh no! Had I already triggered the alarm system and now I couldn't get in? I frantically jiggled the key to the right, the left. And finally, after about 5 minutes of jiggling (even up and down) I managed to open the door. Door number two was easy and since the alarm hadn't sounded yet, I thought I was homefree. I confidently punched in the code...and nothing happened. I punched it in again...and again...and again (not so confidently at this point). I then began to try different combinations of the numbers, I knew my time was running out. Time to go to the backup plan. Call for help. Calling AJ, now in quite a state, I yelled into the receiver for the real code. And just as I was punching it in, the house phone rang and I reached to get it. The alarm goes off. I can't stop it. I'm panicking. AJ informs me that he will be there in five minutes, but the alarm is so loud. I try one last time to get that code in. Please work! And it does! Miracles of miracles, the alarm stops and the police coming to pick up the evil American intruder are nowhere in sight. I'm saved...and I did it all by myself. I would like to think I'd make a good addition to the Mission Impossible team...
Not only can I stop alarms, but I can also survive a night out in Fortitude Valley, the major clubbing area in Brisbane. The other night I went out with my two American friends, Hilary and Sara, who were meeting up with two ozzie friends they had met online. They were really nice guys, dressed a little differently than I was used to, but hey, I'm in Australia and clothes are different here. We start out at this funky bar with a big fan in the middle of it. Comfy couches. Low lighting. Very chic. Then we move on to a place called The Depot, which is really the main hangout of these two guys. As soon as we walk in, I know this is going to be an interesting place. Everything is black, there are nasty little couches in dark little corners, the floor is covered in a ratty carpet is some places, sticky tile in others, and I am WAY overdressed. There I was in my little going out heels, short skirt, and pink tanktop, surrounded by black taffeta, spiked belts, gelled hair, and party masks. I was in a punk bar, and while it was really interesting to watch everyone and take in a scene totally foreign to me, it wasn't exactly my sort of place. But Hilary and Sara loved it, so I put on my failproof smile and just went with it. After all, it's just another ozzie experience...
