Schoolies Monologue

Unfamiliar music is blaring out of the speakers as Meg and I abandon the dance floor for another round of drinks. This will be the first drink we pay for ourselves all night; earlier this evening we used a ticket for free drinks at the pub across from our hostel. Walking down the sunny streets of Byron Bay, it’s nearly impossible not to be given tickets for night life activities, therefore it is no surprise when we run into two of our hostel roommates at the pub. Two pretty blonde Swedish girls who have mostly kept to themselves during their stay. We have made friends with most of the roommates that have come through our hostel, however these Swedish girls haven’t come across all too friendly. Honestly, I find them rather standoffish and rude.

Squirming our way though bunches of kids, we take a seat and watch the sea of drunk, dancing schoolies celebrating their new found freedom. There are so many of them in this little beach town that when Meg and I stopped by Woolworths this afternoon, we came running out for air. Schoolies filled the aisles with 4-6 kids per shopping cart (and there were three to four carts per aisle), bolting up and down the aisles, completely ignorant to any other human doing their shopping. While normally Meg and I are horrible with making snap decisions, we were in and out of that grocery store within minutes with everything we

Smirking and leaning back into a rather confident pose for a child who just purposely knocked over my brand new drink, Byron says coolly, “I guess this means I have to buy you a drink”. So this is his move. This is how he thinks he’s going to pick up girls at the bar. I tell him he is damn right in guessing he needs to buy me a drink! He asks me what I would like and I say I would like him to replace the drink I had JUST purchased, my cider. Refusing to buy me a cider, as it is not a “real” drink, he begins to argue with me on what I should be drinking. This boy child has no idea what he has gotten himself into. I am not upset that he tipped my disgusting cider, however, this does not stop me from busting his ass on the fact that what he did is extremely rude. Who simply tips over a strangers full glass?! I have to hand it to the kid, he has some serious balls doing what he did; it’s too bad he wasted such a move on a girl six years older than him with a honey back at home. Having a wonderful time ripping this kid to shreds, with Meg throwing in her own two cents, Byron’s cool-guy demeanour vanishes as embarrassment and slight fear creeps into his eyes. Realizing his pick up attempt is clearly not going well, he hops out of his seat, promising me he’s going to replace my drink right away, and runs away from us in a