Week (b)end

Friday:

Worked all day. Found myself not working that night for the first time in many weeks so went home to drink red wine and not do school work and scream at the TV for playing the sequel to Bridget Jone's Diary. Was thinking about how much Hugh Grant reminded me of my annoying, wanker uncle when the annoying wanker uncle rang.
"What are you doing with yourself?"
Me: "Mm.. not much. Working, studying."
"What are ya going to do next year?"
"Mm.. dunno yet. Might go travelling."
"Go to Europe. It's all happening in Europe. C and D are over there."
Me: "Yeah. Nah. Rather go around Australia first."
"No, don't do that. It's going off in Europe! Go to Europe."
Annoying wanker.

At 3am I was awoken by a familiar scuffling, munching noise. I cursed, I knew that sound all too well. I switched on the light and surveyed my pig sty of a room till I found the source. A little brown mouse sat on my desk nibbling on a week old sandwich wrapped in foil. I gasped before attempting to grab it as it jumped at me and I couldn't help yelping with fright.
It disappeared under the mountain of shit on the floor and I went back to bed, laughing myself to sleep.

Saturday:

Worked all day in my favourite part of the Hotel- the sports bar- where super sexy bartender works who I had seen little of in the past few weeks and was going crazy about. Felt my knees crippling beneath me every time he called me 'Larnzy', poked me, pulled my hair, put his hand on my back or spoke to me in a voice that felt like it was dripping with sugar. Had to tune him out just so I could concentrate, just so I could hear the patrons' orders when he'd be at my side poking my hip. Had to refrain from ogling his butt when I walked past with racks of glasses just so I wouldn't drop them.
Then- bang. Heard it.
Bar maid number 2: "Your girlfriend is a lesbian!"
My head whips up from the till, "What?"
She grins, giving him a sideways glance as his head is bent over the till. "She's not!" He mumbles out of whack with his usual charm.
I have to clench my jaw shut and advert my gaze, hide my intense interest.
She smiles at me, "The girl he's seeing is a lesbian"
My jaw drops. "What?"
Hot Bartender: "She's bi!" He protests, "Can't tell you anything!"
This banter went on for a while, while I stood there, laughing as well, pouring beers, working the till, taking money and talking to the drunks. Hiding it, hiding it, hiding it.
Then Kaz sidled up to my side and slipped a wad of notes into my pocket, "What the.....!" I began as she hushed me, "It's from Charlie." I stared, bewildered.
I countered the notes- $400. I gasped, "Oh My Gawd!!"
Kaz: "He gave us all the same". I continued to stare at her, not noticing the customers anymore.
"What?"
Hot Bar Tender laughed and walked behind me to start rubbing my shoulders, while I tried not to pass out.
Eventually I regained my Dirty Bar-Maid composure and was back at it, guiltily enjoying it when the old drunks called me beautiful in front of Hot Bar Tender. Wanting to start dancing around.
Did you hear that? Did you hear that? Validation! Yay!
But instead kept mopping up the beer and working the taps with complete Dirty Bar-Maid respectability, until HBT would touch me again or ask whether I needed his help. bahhhh!

Later that night, drunk in a bar, sitting on a guy's lap I text Fungy: 'I'm in love! But he has a gf! But she's bi-sexual! So maybe I can fix my lil dilemma!!! Make the dyke chick fall for you so she leaves him and I can strike while he's vulnerable and lonely!'

Then later, drunker, I text The Canza: 'Drunk message. Just made out with 2 guys- one is a mate. Going to party at his house now. Hmm.. might try to be not a complete trashy now. Want HBT's babies. Need him like a big mac. Speaking of which- at maccaz now. Tehehehehehe xx'

Sunday:

I'll leave out the next five hours after that, still rather ashamed. But in the morning I woke to a message on my phone saying my brother had been hit by a car and two large bruise like hickeys on my neck. Cursing over the hickeys, I quickly checked my brother wasn't dead before applying make-up to the hickeys before I was due in to work at midday.
The make-up didn't conceal the hickeys or the hungover expression on my face.
Around 2pm I dropped a whole stack of plates and cursed the explosion of noise they released as they shattered onto the tiled floor amidst chips, meat, veggies and salad.
I found my composure and walked out of the kitchen to the whole bistro laughing at me.

And that was my weekend in a nutshell.