It's been a while. How's them grand kids now? Doin' orright I hope.
It's been a bit quiet in the Back Bar here.
Anyways I had an invite from on old mate of mine - he's retired now down in W.A. - he said why don't I come down and visit for a weekend. I chatted with Beryl about it - she glared at me - told me not to get sweet on any girlies though. (Now - why would I want to do that when I've got the most gorgeous woman in the whole world?) Anyways - we had a bit of snoggin' and she stopped the glares. Had a word with the Big Boss down at the Imperial - he said to go ahead. I hadn't had a weekend off in yonks and he could look after the Back Bar for a while.
I had a look on the internet to see what Virgin Bluey was offering and they had cheap fares anywhere in Australia. So - I rang me mate and told him it was on.
Friday afternoon, I got in the old FJ and tootled off to the Big Smoke up in Mount Isa. Hitched a ride with Virgin Bluey - went through Darwin, Kununurra and down to the Swanny.
Harry, me mate, was waiting at the airport for me. He's got one of them nifty little Jap cars, a Mazda2. Orright I suppose. But I'll stick with me FJ. If it ever breaks down - I know how to fix it. Them new Jap cars - where would you start. That new-fangled stuff is orright I spose - but it ain't for me. Nifty little thing, though. Scootin' through that city traffic was a breeze.
Anyways, he said he had a treat in store for me. There's a new place in town called the Zoomba Lounge he was gonna take me to. Sounded sort of African to me. Anyways, you know me - I'm game for anything.
We went to Maccas first up - had one of them Big Mac meals. Not bad tucker, I can tell ya. We don't have any of them up-market restaurants like Maccas in the Curry. We have to do with the Greek Kaf, the Chinese Kaf, and 300gm sirloin steaks at the Imperial. None of that flash American cuisine up in the Curry.
Belly filled, we hopped back into the Mazda2 and headed off. Now - you know me. I'm game for anything. But I wasn't too keen about the neighbourhood we woz going through. When Harry stopped and said, "Here we are, old mate." I woz worried. Didn't look like no flash joint to me. No neon signs. There was some sort of soup kitchen operatin' out of a beat-up caravan opposite. Parked along the street was a beat up old El Camino, a fire-bombed Ferrari and a rusty old Nissan Skyline.
I said to Harry, "You sure this is the right place, mate?" He looked at me, gave me a wink and a nod and said, "Don't be fooled by the outside mate, this place is real exclusive, a private club - hidden down the back streets here so only them's in the know can find it. Wait till ya get inside, mate. She'll be right, digger."
Harry parked the Mazda2 and we hopped out. I can tell ya mate - I was even less keen when I got out than when we first pulled up. There were a few dodgy looking needles lying on the footpath and plenty of empty claret du jour cartons squashed flat on the ground.
Anyways, Harry grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards this door with one of them new fangled electronic key-pads on it. He punched in some numbers and the door swung open. Mate - I've been in some dingy dives back in the 60s in Surfers when i was working in the Bird Watcher's Bar - but I ain't seen no night club that looked like this. The stairs down was all rickety and only one bare yellow electric light bulb showed the way. Harry skipped down the stairs like a teenager - so I had to foller.
Mate I gotta tell ya' - it was like one of them Thunder Eggs - once inside - you couldn't believe it. We woz met by this Errol Flynn looking' fella. His name was BiggDaddy and he was the boss of the Zoomba Lounge - just like the Big Boss up at the Imperial. He had this gorgeous looking' chick draped on his shoulder. Must-a been half his age. Straight away he says, G'day Harry nice to see ya. This must be yer mate Bob from up the Curry way. Well - he sure made us feel welcomed. We got chatting - funny bugger he woz - funnier than a circus full of monkeys. Had me in stitches he did. And that chick of his, Miss Honeydew, I tell ya mate, she was given' me the eye - I reckon she likes older men. But I've got my Beryl - and I ain't about to stray.
We chatted with Bigg for a while - then I had a look around. The place was packed. It was amazing. Everybody was wearing some sort of costume, or one of them personalised T-Shirts - you know the ones - messages on the front and back.
Over in one corner was a mob - they looked like a Harry Potter convention - all dressed up in wizard costumes ready for Halloween or something. They had Tarot cards on the table, diagrams of Mayan pyramids, Astrological charts. They kept muttering, Armstrong this, Armstrong that, Armstrong this, Armstrong that. The bloke with the fanciest wizard costume was an old codger with long hair and a French accent. Whenever he spoke, everybody at the table stopped to listen. When he finished speaking, he always said, "Of course, I could be wrong." There was another bloke at that table he spoke with a Spanish accent. I reckon he must have been a fitness freak coz he kept on talking about bicycles or cycles or something. There was another bloke there dressed in a skeleton outfit. Whenever he spoke, the tabled cheered, "Right On, Bones. Right On."
Over in another corner, there was a bloke standing up on the table. He had on a Moses outfit - long hair, long beard, biblical robes. He had a big sign reading, "Repent, the End is Nigh". He seemed to be giving some sort of sermon. There was a big crowd around him. Well, two crowds actually. One small mob, who kept cheering, "Hallelujah Brother", and a bigger mob shouting, "Shut up ya mug." "Boo, Hiss." I tell ya, Red, if anybody acted up like that in the Back Bar - the Big Boss would show him the door quick smart. Nah - not old BiggDaddy though. He just seems to humour everybody - and puts up with the lot of them. But then, I guess it's a private club - and you can do anything you want. Although there were a couple of ugly looking geezers who I think were bouncers. I guess if anybody got a bit rough they were there to pull them back into line. They had on T-Shirts. The front read, "Mod Squad", and on the back no words, just one of them hippie Peace signs.
There woz another bloke, dancing around shadow boxing. Couldn't stay still for a minute - never sat down. His T-shirt read on the front, "Do me, I'm famous". And on the back it read, "A round or two for a pound or two." Tough looking' geezer - broken nose, cauliflower ear. Looked like he'd had a career in Jimmy Sharman's troupe.
At another table, it could have been some snob wine tasters' convention. They kept on talking about that flash Italian wine, Valpolicelli. On their table they had all these charts with lots of numbers and horizontal lines. Geeky looking characters. Short hair, Lots of coke bottle glasses. They kept stabbing at these charts and yelling numbers, 61.8, 38.2. Maybe it was some sort of bingo game they woz involved with. I dunno - them wine-tasters, they speak a foreign language - it's all beyond me.
Right in the middle of the night-club was a big dais thing. And there were two gorgeous lookin' chicks dancing. Wearin' next to nothing. One blonde and one brunette. Took me back to the old Surfers days, it did. The brunette was kinda African looking. Maybe her name was Zoomba - and they named the club after her. Of course, they were just for lookin' at - no touchie feelie - just looking. The Valpolicelli Geeks - I never saw them lookin, though. They woz too engrossed in their charts and their numbers. Them wizard blokes though - they couldn't help themselves. And Moses - I saw him having a long perve. I reckon he's really just a dirty old man.
Over at another table, way off by themselves, woz a group of women. I dunno - it takes all types - and they woz there in the Zoomba Lounge. This table was just like a table of women we see in the Back Bar. They could have been anyone's Mum or Grandma. My Beryl would have felt right at home. They were all wearing T-Shirts with the same sign. "Women Make the Best Traders" on the front. And on the back just a single great big $ sign.
At another table was another mob - the head bloke there was a bloke in a monk's outfit. He looked like that villain out of the Da Vinci Code. I dunno whether he had anything in common with Moses, sorta religious, but they did seem to chat together once in a while. That table I think came out of the Weights and Measures Department of the public service. They were all on about volumes, and supply and testing.
It's all beyond me, mate. I'm just a simple barman.
Hey Red. I've gotta warn ya. Don't know whether there's much in this or not. But - one time in the night's proceedings, I had to visit the men's room. Well, I was standing there, doing what men gotta do, when I heard a couple of shady looking characters talking about knee-capping you. Seems they're sick of you pinching all their thumbs. Blowed if I know what it was all about. Dunno whether there's anything in it or not - dunno whether I heard it right or not. But they were spooky looking characters. Like I said - there's all sorts in the Zoomba Lounge. Just be careful and watch yer back if you ever come down here, Swanny way.
Look mate - gotta go now.
Give me best to the bubble n strife, and give those grand kiddies of yours a big raspberry on the belly from me.
(20min delay)