The Colour of Her Eyes Were the Colour of Insanity

Readers, I'm actually excited to write this blog post. I'm going to start with the boring stuff, but hang in there, the story gets good (heck, just read the title of this post!)

I promised you midterms and night life, and I'm here to deliver both.

Midterms
In America, midterms, to me at least, are not a big deal. Usually, they're just a pain because you've already had all this homework, and now you have to translate that into a test answer. You already know how well you've been doing in the class, so you have a good idea of how well you're going to do on the midterm.

In Australia, the "midsem" may count as much as 30% of your grade, and that isn't even as high as it goes. In my economics class, the two assignments we do turn in are worth a total of 10%, then the midsem is 30%, and the final is 60%. But no pressure, right? In other classes, you have to pass the average of your midterm and final to even be eligible to pass the course. And these aren't your "run-of-the-mill" midterms either.

You write.

And write.

And write.

All three midsems involved some degree of writing and interpretation. In Human Resource Management (HRM), I had eight short answer/essay questions. In Eco, I had five - comprising of drawing graphs and interpreting them. In Marketing, I had 17 multiple choice questions, two short answers, and four questions to write about with regard to a case study. By the end of my HRM midsem, I had a small divot in my finger from where my pen rested for nearly two straight hours.

On the bright side, I only have to pass the course to get credit. But still, I hope to God I don't walk into class next week and I see 53 slashed across my test (53 is actually a solid C in Australia). So here's to hoping!

The Nightclub "East"
I want to start this post with a small shout out and an introduction. Rachel, my neighbour, is a Boston girl. She's not quite a year older than me, but she's still as fun as can be. I love the girl to death, but tonight, she proved she's got a bit of a fighter in her.

The smile is deceiving...

Like I said last week, there's a nightclub I finally decided to check out. So Thursday, the 23rd of February, I got a ride from a friend down the hall to a place called "East," in Broadbeach. Most of my friends were on their way, so I casually walked inside to see what the big deal about this place was…

On the bright side, the food that walked by smelt delicious

It was a restaurant. I walked straight past the lady at the front desk, expecting to see some early hints of a club, and all I see are white tablecloths and people eating Chicken Parmesan or a fancy Cesar Salad. Now, I've been around clubs most of my life, and this place was no club.

I was at a loss. This place was definitely the "best nightclub" most of my friends have been to in Australia, and what was this deal with "Ladies' Night?" If you're a lady, over 18 of course, the club provides you with unlimited glasses of champagne or sparkling wine, whichever suits your fancy.

Like I said, a really fancy restaurant

I'm in this restaurant, the band is singing Lou Rawls, and I have no idea what to do as middle aged suburbans eat their dinner in front of me. Yeah, what would you do?

Being raised in club life you learn quickly that your bartender can be your best friend or your worst enemy, so, naturally, I made my way over there and started up a conversation with a new-hire, Diogo, from Brazil. I asked him, "So you're telling me…that this…high quality restaurant…turns into a hoppin' night club here in the next hour, with a women to men ratio that you wouldn't believe?" His answer was short, but telling: "Yeah, pretty much."

So I waited. I listened to the band sing some more Lou Rawls and some Barry White, and people started finishing up their meals and either going to the bar for a drink, or just leaving. The table is then cleared, stripped, folded up, and taken away, creating a decent sized dance floor in front of the stage.

The band, Sex 'N Chocolate, are really, really good at some R&B

Right about that time, my friends started to show up, so the club had an instant 15 or so girls added to the mix (Papa didn't raise no fool). It was a good evening, but then Rachel disappeared for a while and texted me saying she was a 20 minute walk away from the nightclub. So I, being the kind of guy I am, left and hunted her down. I'm not a happy camper if I lose one of my friends, and I'll do just about anything to make sure they're ok.

BAM! Nightclub.

We then hopped in a huge taxi with some of her new friends, and drove back to "East." One of the guys gave us $20 to get back home. At the same time a group of men were going to Surfer's Paradise, one of them gave us $10 for us to get out and let them have the big taxi. So our ride home was paid for, which made for a pretty successful ending.

"East" Round 2
Naturally, if you enjoy something, you do it again. So I did. I went to "East" for a second week in a row, with the hopes that it'll be as fun and exciting as the previous week. And it was, but for different reasons.

Tonight the entire club had a weird feeling to it. Excuse my language to any well educated readers, but it really had an atmosphere of "bitch" about it. And, to top that off, the music just wasn't as good as the week before.

Anyway, get there with the friends, we're sitting around, laughing, having a good time. And, slowly, people start moving their way to the dance floor. As you know, I'm not a club dancer. It just isn't my thing. But, I will go out there and sway along with the masses. During one of those swaying moments, I see Rachel and this large, ugly woman (I'll call her Agatha. She had an air of Miss Trunchbull to her) start exchanging a few words. I don't think much of it, but I keep it in the corner of my eye. Soon after, I see what is obviously Rachel's hair, and body attached, being pulled toward Agatha.

Instinct kicks in and tells me to do something to break it up. When Agatha releases Rachel's head, I grab Rachel and start pushing her back, out of the way. Other friends are either keeping Agatha restrained (by ropes and chains and whatever else you use to restrain a beast), or trying to keep the distance between Rachel and Agatha.

I didn't see what happened next, all I knew is that nails were dug into my chest and I lost hold of Rachel. At that point, security caught on to what was happening and they kept it from getting worse. They escorted Agatha out of the club and Rachel had about a 10 minute grace period before she, too, was asked to leave.

During that 10 minutes, my feelings about the club were made up when this "man of a woman" bumped into me and spilled its drink down the sleeve of my shirt. It then proceeded to dip its fingers and splash a few drops in my face, as if it was my fault I was in its way.

With the lack of good music and the general attitude of the club that evening, I decided to call it a night with the rest of the people who joined Rachel in her departure. We had a good laugh with security while we waited for the bus, and I think we left a good impression on them, which is always a good thing.

In conclusion: Don't provoke people at a nightclub. It won't end well for anybody…

Oh, and get out of a manly woman's way.