Model Behaviour

It's been a while since my last blog about the random sex pest I met in the Greenwood and I wanted to pick this thing up and continue with the noting down of learnings brought about by my inquisitive side when I have had a few glasses of Sauvignon Blanc.

Since I am blogging about Weird and Wonderful people, and the last one was pretty weird, I thought I'd shake it up a bit and go with wonderful this time.

And so it goes...last night we were out with a friend of mine who had just finished her last day at her current job and following a bottle or two, it was announced that we were heading to the Ivy. Now for those of you who don't know the Ivy, it is a picturesque bar spot of the city, with a large outdoor area, fairy lights and a spiral staircase leading up to the VIP bars. There is also a swimming pool on the top floor but this bit is kept for the elite apparently. The Ivy has been described in Time Out as a place where you go 'to see and be seen'. I resent that quote...they won't let me upstairs.

So we are on our way from the comfort zone of Ryan's Bar to the not so comfortable Ivy (I guess that depends on one's perceived position in the social food chain) and due to my thongesque footwear, I already had doubts on my admittance to the bog standard bar area, let alone the bit where the important people go.

We arrive at the entrance on George St to be greeted by a little blonde beauty who asks the crucial question "how many of you are there?" Between us, we managed to figure out there were five. "Oh, well in that case you'll have to go to the back entrance". Firstly, "why?" and secondly..."why?" But rather than argue, we took ourselves off on the 200 metre journey that eventually brought us to the back of the building. On the way round in seek of the winding queue that would lead us to the venue only dreams could compete with, we got to see a tramp, some people eating their dinner and....and well that's it. In fact, the queue wasn't even visible. Not a pretentious looking doorman in sight. Were we the only minions here tonight? Had the rest of the rifraf decided to stay for one more in Ryan's?

As the realisation dawned on me that we had ended up at exactly the same entrance we would have come to had we been allowed through the golden gates of Heaven, I started to question my own self worth and where I ranked in the pecking order. Afterall, I had just done the walk of shame into this metrosexual swankhole. Were they going to tattoo my forehead with "I came in the back way...(which is the same as the front way only takes six times longer) ?"

Anyway, negativity aside, later in the evening I met a woman who struck a chord with me. She was a friend of a friend's friend, a woman in her mid thirties but who clearly felt she stuck out like a sore thumb because of the fact she was older than us and had two kids. As I was left alone with her and her friend while my mate went to buy drinks, I began to talk the biggest amount of shit I have spoken in 2009 and I am not sure why. Conscious of this, I started to feel uncomfortable so began mentally exploring the archive of stories locked away in my mind that would fit my mate's law of socially acceptable anecdotes of F.R.I (funny, relevant or interesting - any one of the three is fine). But this lady stopped me in my tracks and just began a normal conversation.

I know this sounds weird but it's moments when a complete stranger senses you feel a little out of depth and come to your rescue with a soft smile and genuine interest in you that make you feel so relaxed and safe in the big wide world. You rarely meet people who make you feel this way, and those you do, I try to take a leaf from their book, or better still, keep them as friends. That's why I have the people around me I do.

It wasn't just her ease to be around that had me intrigued, but the story she later told me of her recent discovery that her husband of 13 years had been having an affair for five of them. Two kids in and the guy decided that this was a good time to start playing away from home. Now obviously I only got one side of the story but what a fucking jerk? Five years man - grow some balls.

She looked so lovely, with long blonde hair and black evening dress. I wanted to stand next to her in my scruffy shorts and flipflops by contrast to make her stand out even more.

And so her night was about catching up with some friends and making the most of the babysitter, and gliding through what clearly wasn't the night she'd hoped would make everything feel better again with such grace and elegance and hope for the future. These people are what make me tick. The ones that get shit dropped on them from 30 thousand feet and think 'well at least it wasn't 40 thousand'.

I'm glad I met that inspirational lady.