Standard Friday Night Out

Ok, so I’m happy to concede that my sweet, lovely girlfriend is much better at this blogging thing than I am. She was going to write about what we did for the weekend before last, but I asked her to let me do it. Now that I’m getting around to it, I don’t really remember too much about what we did, but I’ll give you the highlights. As a working couple Lucia and I have, by and large, got into the ‘living for the weekend’ mentality. Not to say we don’t do cool things during the week, if you count our ‘boxercise followed by pizza at Mad and desert at Wow Cow followed by our mid week shop at Harris and DVD’ on hump day as ‘cool'.


The weekend started as they so often do with me going to pick up Lucia from the Ivy where she was ‘just having one drink after work’. This is her usual Friday night routine- her and Pri frequent the most pretentious bar in Sydney in the hope of catching a glimpse of Dan Carter or Jarrod Hayne for whom it is a local haunt. By the time I found her she’d polished off a bottle of wine and suddenly a night out was on the cards. A couple of drinks, a short cab ride and a few home made cocktails later we were ready to hit the town. We got a cab to Surry Hills to meet Alex, Ian and Fry and did a short pub crawl around the area.

Throughout the night I was ridiculed for my personal hygiene procedures, which I admit are metrosexual at best. Fortunately I managed to reassert my masculinity by winning the calf competition.

And the night ended with all the guys competing for the affections of a random gay man who appeared to be by himself in the Kings Cross hotel. This started off as funny, soon got weird and within the hour was simply disturbing. Anyway, Ian won the competition and I hope they enjoyed their night together.


Saturday was a relaxed affair- a lovely lunch at Blancharu followed by a short stroll to the entertainment quarter to watch the waratahs beat the sharks. The game was not great, the view was even worse and the only redeeming factor was noticing Phil Waugh’s physical resemblance to, ironically, a wombat.