Entry 54

Thursday, 10.6.2005 – This was a throw-away day. I was sick of the hostel and my friend was arriving the next morning. I was upgrading to a hotel. Thank the dear lord. I went to China Town and it was exactly like every other China Town in any city in the world. I am not sure what the attraction is. My lunch was marginal. I went to the markets – fresh fruits, didgeridoos, boomerangs, celebrity face drawings and awful clothes. Fell asleep watching a 3D shark movie at the Omnimax. Really enjoyed the Art Museum of New South Wales. Bought a bottle of wine and took it to an Indian joint for dinner. That was good.

The hostel was abuzz that evening. Everyone was going out. Even my nemesis, Dez. A difficult person in the worst way. I would ask him to borrow the phone book behind the front desk and he would say ‘why? What do you need it for? Who are you calling? Just tell me who you want to call and I will look it up’. It would take me five minutes of excruciating banter to get the book. He mistakenly told me that he was given a $200 bar tab at the Empire Hotel for the night. The bars in the Cross give the hostel employees big tabs to get traffic into their business. My eyes lit up. As my revenge, I decided to run that tab dry and go out in a blaze of gunfire. And that I did.

At the Empire, I had the bartender line up drinks (courtesy Dez, who was flopping around somewhere) and saturated the patrons within shouting distance for a wonderful 45 minutes before the $200 was kicked. I left triumphantly, head held high. The night moved from there. World Bar. Kings X Hotel. A British woman named Fiona attached herself to me. Back, going back in all directions. I never spent a dime the entire night. Drinks came from all sides. It was a Backpacker celebration. Back at the hostel, it had morphed into my freshmen dormitory. Strangers running in and out of different rooms. 2nd floor. 3rd floor. 1st floor. Choices were being made. Drunken investigations in beds while roommates pretended to be asleep.

I woke up with a start at 7am. The room was a disaster. It was time to go. I packed my bags like the cops were coming. There was a line of people right outside my room, checking in. The hostel never sleeps. I was giggling maniacally. I did one last sweep of the room and hauled out my bags, turning once to proclaim ‘so long, SUCKERS!’ to the sleeping Germans. I threw my keys at the man behind the desk and was hailing a cab before he could offer protest. You don’t check out of a hostel. You escape.