Act III, Scene II - All That Glitters is ...

... Gold, and the Gold Coast sure as hell knows how to glitter. Picture this, if you will (feel free to Google Gold Coast pictures if you have a particularly lazy imagination): Skyscrapers. Backscratchers of the sky running north and south for about as far as the eye can see from ground level with giant cranes erecting even more. There's so much development here one has to wonder if the man who named this city was a seer. In front of this mouth of crooked teeth (to steal a line from Ben Gibbard) is a gumline of beautiful sandy beaches and marvelously blue ocean water with plenty of fine waves for the surfers. As a matter of fact, the most tourist-worthy locale in this fair city is known as Surfers Paradise for just that reason. It probably goes without mention that Andrej is chomping at the bit to get out there and ride a few of those puppies, but I guess I went ahead and mentioned it anyway.

We caught the airtrain out of Brisbane earlier this morning. Our last night there was rather pleasant and laid back, not the extreme party buffet I was expecting to be dragged out on. The first place we went to was a very forgettable nightclub. Seriously, we were just there yesterday and I couldn't tell you the name of the place. It was pretty typical. You walk in and there's red neon lighting fighting with blacklighting and puking out color all over the floors and the walls amongst the nauseatingly loud (and at this point monotonous) top-forty dance hits blaring out of overpowered speakers. There was some good looking women in there I suppose. Although, it's funny how defensive women are in nightclubs without realizing it. I notice that a large number of taken women will find the first excuse to offhandedly talk about their significant other. As if to say "I'm talking to you, but back off. I'm not the mannequin in the window, I'm just changing the dressing." What they don't know is that with most guys - like Andrej, for example - that's an invitation to chase. You know, the whole wanting what you can't have thing.

But, of course, the one girl that did start talking to me drops the fact that she has a fiance in practically the first sentence. Before the paragraph is over, the absurdly drunk guy across from us who has slowly been annoying them all night has his coat over his lap and his hand under coat and a perverse little smile on his face. Her and her friends book it out the door, understandably grossed out. Here comes the part where I'm angry with myself: Why didn't I say something? Not to him, but to someone, like a bouncer. I'm the classic rescuer type . . . they needed rescuing. Why didn't I do something? Because I don't deal with confrontation well. I took a mental note of this lapse in action in an effort to prevent further indecision later.

We moved on to a place whose name I am happy to remember (Ric's) because I liked the bar so much that on my next visit to Brisbane (whenever that may be) I'm sure to return there for a drink or two. The place had a nice earthy atmosphere, decent prices, and a DJ who played danceable tunes that were on a completely different wavelength from the normal heavy-bottomed top forty dance remix crap. It was enjoyable. Funnily enough, the only two women two talk to me at that place both opened with the same question: "How old are you?" It's too bad my beard sucks or I wouldn't have shaved it off.

All in all, it was a good evening. It's the kind of night out I enjoy. Not that the heavy partying and dance thing isn't fun on occasion, but I much prefer the former to the latter any day of the week.

Anyway, we're sitting here in our new dorm bedroom in the hostel in Surfers Paradise. Surprisingly, the two other guys in here are American, Zack and Paul. They seem like really cool guys actually. We all seemed to hit it off right away, which is good - going out partying in large groups is always a good idea. I suppose I'd better go. Andrej wants to go out in search of a gym, despite the fact that it's Sunday afternoon and we have no idea where one is. Something tells me we'll get plenty of exercise just finding the damn thing since we're gonna do it Andrej's way.

Aussie Doozy of the Day:
I gotta say that miles and miles of beachfront property that is all above 10 stories tall is unique enough for one day. Seriously, I'm so in awe of this blatant embrace of urban density, it's enough to make me wish I could turn back the clock and go for a degree in architecture instead.