"What dance mate? This is the first I've heard of it."
"I think it's the Lions Club dance."
"Does that mean anybody can go or just members?"
"No mate, it's open to everyone."
"Who's playin' the music?"
"Far as I know, it's Harry Plunkett and his band."
"Oh Jeezus mate, that'll be a real lively affair!"
"Ya think so?"
"Nah mate, I'm only kiddin'. Harry Plunkett's about 60 and he's the youngest member, so a quick step will be about as lively as it gets."
"Have ya heard him before Yorky?"
"Sure have mate. Last time he played a dance, he asked me to sit in and play a few numbers on mi trumpet."
"What was it like?"
"Fuckin' awful! Harry plays more wrong notes than right ones. That said, he's a good bloke. The time I played with him, they were playing a waltz and right in the middle of his solo, he hit a real bum note."
"Did everyone stop and look?"
"Nah mate. Harry was the only one who stopped. He took the saxophone out of his mouth and laughed his fuckin' head off! Soon as he could stop himself laughin', he turned to me and said,
"I always fuck up on this solo. I'm not a real good musician but I love playing music. Soon as I've got a few more beers into me, I'll be as good as gold. I never could play sober."
"Jeezus Yorky, it sounds to me like it's gonna' be a lot of fun mate. Can you dance?"
"No mate, I'm as good at dancin' as Harry is at the saxophone. He hits bum notes and I tread on toes" The only dance I'm good at is the Quick-step and the Waltz!"
"I don't think I'll be dancin' Yorky. I can't even do that, whatever the fuck they are."
"It's easy Freddy. All ya gotta' do with the Quck-step is walk forwards and the Waltz, Ya just count 1-2-3 ~ 1-2-3 ~ 1-2-3.
"What happens if I fuck up and count 4?"
"The shit hits the fan mate. That's when ya gotta' start apologizing!"
"Do the sheilas' get the shits when ya tread on their toes?"
"No mate, they generally smile and say 'No Worries', but next time ya ask 'em for a dance, they usually say, very politely, 'No thank you' or 'no thanks, mi feet are killin' me."
"I'll be gettin' at least half-full Yorky before I even walk in the door!"
"Yeah, me too mate. I'm too shy, sober. I normally lean against the wall for ages and then when I do git up the courage to ask someone, most times they say 'No' and I end up gettin' the shits'."
"Well if nothin' else Yorky, it's a good excuse for a piss-up."
"Hey Freddy, I got a real beaut story for ya."
"Go ahead mate, I'm all fuckin' ears!"
"The last time there was a dance on, I was havin' a beer with a bloke called Lucey McGinnes. He's a cocky I did a bit of tractor-driving for. Anyway, as we were stood there, watching the dancers, this bloke that Lucey seemed to know a bit, walked over for a natter, and after a short while he says to Lucey, "Jesus mate, look at all these Sheilas in their good gear. Here's me standin' over here talkin' to you when I'm actually bustin' for a good root. I should put mi beer down and make the rounds. Ya never know, I might get lucky."
"Are ya lookin' for a good root?", asks Lucey.
"Do flies land on shit, mate? I haven't been with a sheila since the missus left me and took off back to her mothers' place with the kids."
"Maybe I can help ya out.", says Lucey.
Now Lucey's a real larrikin, when he's got a few beers in him, so he says to the bloke,
"Ya see that good-lookin' middle-aged sheila over there, on her own? Well, she roots like a cut snake mate."
"How the fuck do you know that?", asks the bloke.
"I rooted her miself quite a few times."
"Ah bullshit Lucey, ya havin' me on."
"Nah, mate, I swear to ya, Gods' honor! She's a real fuckin' goer."
"Ya think I could do all right there?"
"Well, ya never fuckin' know mate, standin' here, bullshittin' with me. Go over and ask her for a dance!"
The bloke thought about it for a bit and said,
"Yeah, fuck it! What do I have to lose?"
He makes his way over to where the woman's sittin' and asks her for a dance and she says 'Yes'. By this time, Harry and his band are playin' a real slow waltz, so the bloke pulls her in a bit closer and continues to dance. All of a sudden, she pulls away from him and gives him a good smack in the chops and walks back to her seat, with a real disgusted look on her face."
"What happened then mate?"
"Hang on Freddy, I'm just gettin' to the good part!"
"So, this bloke walks back to where Lucey and miself are standin', and he's got the shits. Lucey by the way, is laughin' his head off."
"Suppose ya think that's bloody funny mate?". He says to Lucy. "You said she roots like a cut snake and you'd rooted her before, ya bullshittin' bastard!"
"Nah mate.", says Lucy. "I wasn't bull-shittin' ya sport. As a matter of fact, I rooted her last night. What happened anyway?"
"When I asked her for a dance, she gave me a great smile and said 'yes', so, after we'd been dancin' a while, I pulled her in a bit closer and asked her if she fancied a root! That's when he hauled off and stauched me. Who the fuck is she, anyways?", asks the bloke.
Lucey, who was still laughing his head off, said between laughs,
"It's mi missus mate!"
Lucey cracked up even more now at the look on the blokes face.
"Fuck you, ya miserable bastard!", said the bloke. "Remind me not to believe another word you say, fuck-nuckle!
He downed his beer and took off.
"Shit Yorky, that's a fuckin' good story.", said Freddy, who was now havin' his own good laugh. "Is it a fair dinkum story mate? Did it really happen?"
"Sure did. It's as fair dinkum as I'm a pommy bastard!"
Eventually Saturday arvo rolled around. All week long, I had been thinkin' about all the sheilas that would be at the dance. The Cockys and their daughters would be comin' from miles around. I'd already got mi good gear out of mi port and hung it on a hanger behind the door. Once the decision of what I was going to wear was over, I took off to Freddys' room to see what he was wearing. I found Freddy sat on his bed have a Stubbie with War Dog.
"Ya got ya good clober ready for the dance tonight mate?"
"Sure have Yorky. I'm gonna' wear mi good Daks, shirt, tie and the new jumper ya gave me. What are you wearin'?"
"Pretty much the same mate, but I'm wearing mi good sports coat."
"Jeezus fuckin' christ.", said War Dog. "You two blokes sound like a couple of old sheilas who haven't been out for years!"
"Aren't ya comin' to the dance tonight War Dog?", I asked.
"No fuckin' way cobber. I'm too old for that shit. I'm gonna' have a skin-full and go to bed early."
"There's gonna' be a swag of young sheilas' there War Dog.", said Freddy.
"What fuckin' use is that to me mate? Can you honestly see some young, nubile cockeys' daughter takin' a shine to a crippled up old bastard like me mate?
"Ya never know War Dog, ya might git lucky!"
"Yeah, and I might not. Last sheila I had was mi missus and I kicked that bitch out after I found out she'd been rootin' around behind mi back, while I was at work!"
"Well we're gonna' go and try our luck.", said Freddy.
"You two useless bastards wouldn't git a fuck in a brothel with a fist-full of money!", said War Dog as opened another Stubbie and threw one to me. "Here, have a beer mate. It'll do ya more good than wasting time chasing a root that ya never gonna' get!"
"Ya not gonna' put us off War Dog. We're still gonna' go.", said Freddy.
"Please ya fuckin' self mate. I don't give a monkeys' fuck what ya do. Just remember, this is the Outback, the Bush, mate. The only way you'll git a fuck out a' one of those cockeys' daughters is if ya put a ring on the finger."
"At least it will be fun tryin' War Dog.", I said.
"Since when was gettin' blue knackers fun?", said War Dog.
"Anyways, I'm off for a lay-down so I can be in good shape for tonights' session." was my response.
With that said, War Dog left his empty Stubbie bottles on Freddys night table and made a bee-line for the door.
"Ya think the old bastards' right Yorky?"
"Who gives a rats' arse mate.These dances don't come around every day, so let's make the best of it."
I'd arranged to meet Freddy in mi room at 8 O'clock. The plan was to get a few beers into us before we made our grand entrance to the Lake Cargelligo dance. A bit of Amber fluid would not go astray!
"So, we gonna' have a few beers in the bar first mate?", I said to Freddy when he arrived.
"Yeah mate, but not here. War Dog's in the bar and he's already half-shot and ya know what he's like. I've already had enough of his bullshit this arvo."
"Why don't we start at Twitcheys' mate? The hall's just across the street."
"Good idea Yorky. We won't have far to walk either."
"Look out Yorky mate, here comes Popeye!", said Freddy. as we walked towards Shamens' corner.
"Oh he's alright mate. I like Popeye when he's sober."
"I'll bet ya the first round he bites ya for 20 cents mate."
"You're on Freddy!"
"Where ya off in ya good strides, mate?", said Popeye.
"We're off to the dance Popeye. Can't stop and talk mate. We're runnin' late."
"Can ya give us 50 cents mate? The missus took all mi money again."
"Jeezus Popeye, how much ya owe me now?"
"Can't remember mate, but I'll give it ya back as soon as I start workin'."
"Here's 20 cents mate. I don't have a 50."
"I'll take 2-20s' and a 10. I'm not fussy."
"Twenty cents is all ya gettin' tonight Popeye and think ya self lucky."
"Ya got a smoke to go with it mate?"
I'd bought a packet of Marlborough's that afternoon so I didn't have to pull out the 'bacci and roll one.
"Here mate.", I said as I handed him one.
"No, 'Rochmans' mate."
"No Rothmans tonight Popeye."
"Rich mans' smokes tonight eh Yorky?"
"They're the same fuckin' price as 'Rochmans' mate."
"Give us a light before ya go."
I handed him the red-heads and said,
"Keep 'em Popeye, I'll get more later."
Soon as we entered Twitcheys', we ordered a couple of middys' and looked around for somewhere to stand.
"Two middys' on the way.", said Annette, who was Twitcheys' wife.
Putting the beers on the bar, she said,
"You two blokes are done up to the nines! I suppose you're off to the dance, are ya?"
"We sure are Annette. We just called in for some Dutch courage.", I said.
"I don't think you two handsome fellas will need much of that, the way you're dressed."
"Well thanks for the compliment Annette but we're not professional dancers ya know."
"It's easy Yorky, ya just put one foot in front of the other."
"It's not just the dancin', we've first got to get up the courage to ask."
"I'm sure you'll both do just fine.", she said. "I'd dance with ya both if you asked me."
"Ya would? Ya wanna come with us?"
"Thank you for the invite Yorky but I gotta' work and besides, I don't think Eric would be too pleased leaving the bar to him all night while I went off dancin'. Anyway, have a good night fellas'. I've gotta ' get back to it."
"Jeezus Yorky mate.", said Freddy, once we'd found a place to stand, out of earshot. I'd root Twitcheys' missus any night of the week, given half a chance!"
"Yeah, you and every other bloke in town. She'd have to be the best lookin' woman this side of the Black Stump Freddy. If Twitchey heard us talkin' like this mate, we'd be barred for life."
Harry Plunkett and his band were firing on all 3 cylinders and the dance floor was half-full of what Freddy and I termed, 'geriatics'!
"Have ya spotted any young sheilas yet Freddy?"
"There's a couple over there mate but it looks like they've got boyfriends with 'em."
"That's no good to us mate. We're looking for a root, not a fight!"
"What about those two sat over in the corner Yorky?"
"I like mine mate but yours is a bit of a porker."
"Fuck that for a joke. I may not be much to look at miself, but I'm not rootin' the monkey, while you poke the organ grinder!"
"Hey Freddy, what about the 3 young, town abbos sat over there?"
"No mate, not for me. They might say 'yes' and then we'd be stuck with 'em all night, and besides, you don't want to be branded a Ginn Jockey. Ya know what would happen once the blokes in Gilltraps found out. Our lives would be made a fuckin' misery and we'd have to start drinkin' at Twitcheys or Blackers."
"Yeah, ya not wrong there mate. It would be much easier if we were just lookin' for a dance, but the underlying fact is that we're after a potential root!"
"Maybe those young nurses from the Lake Hospital might show up later. A couple of those are pretty good-lookin' sheilas."
"Yeah, that would be great if that happened Yorky. I saw one of 'em in the Dagos' shop last weekend. She even gave me a smile."
"A smile's no good to us mate. We're after the whole 9 yards!"
"Let's go back to Twitcheys for a couple more. It'll give the place a bit more time to fill up."
As the evening progressed, our prospects seemed to get worse, not better. Eventually after numerous requests for a dance, Freddy decided enough was enough.
"Fuck this bullshit Yorky! I think old War Dog was right. We wouldn't git a fuck in a brothel with a wallet full of money! I'm fed up with gettin' knocked back. I'm gonna call it a night mate."
"Hang on a bit mate. Don't go yet, I'll give it one more go."
"Who ya gonna' ask?"
'One of the abbo sheilas'. I'm sure to get a dance there."
With that said, War Dog left his empty Stubbie bottles on Freddys night table and made a bee-line for the door.
"Ya think the old bastards' right Yorky?"
"Who gives a rats' arse mate.These dances don't come around every day, so let's make the best of it."
I'd arranged to meet Freddy in mi room at 8 O'clock. The plan was to get a few beers into us before we made our grand entrance to the Lake Cargelligo dance. A bit of Amber fluid would not go astray!
"So, we gonna' have a few beers in the bar first mate?", I said to Freddy when he arrived.
"Yeah mate, but not here. War Dog's in the bar and he's already half-shot and ya know what he's like. I've already had enough of his bullshit this arvo."
"Why don't we start at Twitcheys' mate? The hall's just across the street."
"Good idea Yorky. We won't have far to walk either."
"Look out Yorky mate, here comes Popeye!", said Freddy. as we walked towards Shamens' corner.
"Oh he's alright mate. I like Popeye when he's sober."
"I'll bet ya the first round he bites ya for 20 cents mate."
"You're on Freddy!"
"Where ya off in ya good strides, mate?", said Popeye.
"We're off to the dance Popeye. Can't stop and talk mate. We're runnin' late."
"Can ya give us 50 cents mate? The missus took all mi money again."
"Jeezus Popeye, how much ya owe me now?"
"Can't remember mate, but I'll give it ya back as soon as I start workin'."
"Here's 20 cents mate. I don't have a 50."
"I'll take 2-20s' and a 10. I'm not fussy."
"Twenty cents is all ya gettin' tonight Popeye and think ya self lucky."
"Ya got a smoke to go with it mate?"
I'd bought a packet of Marlborough's that afternoon so I didn't have to pull out the 'bacci and roll one.
"Here mate.", I said as I handed him one.
"No, 'Rochmans' mate."
"No Rothmans tonight Popeye."
"Rich mans' smokes tonight eh Yorky?"
"They're the same fuckin' price as 'Rochmans' mate."
"Give us a light before ya go."
I handed him the red-heads and said,
"Keep 'em Popeye, I'll get more later."
Soon as we entered Twitcheys', we ordered a couple of middys' and looked around for somewhere to stand.
"Two middys' on the way.", said Annette, who was Twitcheys' wife.
Putting the beers on the bar, she said,
"You two blokes are done up to the nines! I suppose you're off to the dance, are ya?"
"We sure are Annette. We just called in for some Dutch courage.", I said.
"I don't think you two handsome fellas will need much of that, the way you're dressed."
"Well thanks for the compliment Annette but we're not professional dancers ya know."
"It's easy Yorky, ya just put one foot in front of the other."
"It's not just the dancin', we've first got to get up the courage to ask."
"I'm sure you'll both do just fine.", she said. "I'd dance with ya both if you asked me."
"Ya would? Ya wanna come with us?"
"Thank you for the invite Yorky but I gotta' work and besides, I don't think Eric would be too pleased leaving the bar to him all night while I went off dancin'. Anyway, have a good night fellas'. I've gotta ' get back to it."
"Jeezus Yorky mate.", said Freddy, once we'd found a place to stand, out of earshot. I'd root Twitcheys' missus any night of the week, given half a chance!"
"Yeah, you and every other bloke in town. She'd have to be the best lookin' woman this side of the Black Stump Freddy. If Twitchey heard us talkin' like this mate, we'd be barred for life."
Harry Plunkett and his band were firing on all 3 cylinders and the dance floor was half-full of what Freddy and I termed, 'geriatics'!
"Have ya spotted any young sheilas yet Freddy?"
"There's a couple over there mate but it looks like they've got boyfriends with 'em."
"That's no good to us mate. We're looking for a root, not a fight!"
"What about those two sat over in the corner Yorky?"
"I like mine mate but yours is a bit of a porker."
"Fuck that for a joke. I may not be much to look at miself, but I'm not rootin' the monkey, while you poke the organ grinder!"
"Hey Freddy, what about the 3 young, town abbos sat over there?"
"No mate, not for me. They might say 'yes' and then we'd be stuck with 'em all night, and besides, you don't want to be branded a Ginn Jockey. Ya know what would happen once the blokes in Gilltraps found out. Our lives would be made a fuckin' misery and we'd have to start drinkin' at Twitcheys or Blackers."
"Yeah, ya not wrong there mate. It would be much easier if we were just lookin' for a dance, but the underlying fact is that we're after a potential root!"
"Maybe those young nurses from the Lake Hospital might show up later. A couple of those are pretty good-lookin' sheilas."
"Yeah, that would be great if that happened Yorky. I saw one of 'em in the Dagos' shop last weekend. She even gave me a smile."
"A smile's no good to us mate. We're after the whole 9 yards!"
"Let's go back to Twitcheys for a couple more. It'll give the place a bit more time to fill up."
As the evening progressed, our prospects seemed to get worse, not better. Eventually after numerous requests for a dance, Freddy decided enough was enough.
"Fuck this bullshit Yorky! I think old War Dog was right. We wouldn't git a fuck in a brothel with a wallet full of money! I'm fed up with gettin' knocked back. I'm gonna call it a night mate."
"Hang on a bit mate. Don't go yet, I'll give it one more go."
"Who ya gonna' ask?"
'One of the abbo sheilas'. I'm sure to get a dance there."
Casually makin' my way across the dance floor, so I didn't bump into the dancers, I stood in front of the 3 abbo girls, showing them what I thought was my best smile. Each one of them, in turn, smiled and politely said,
"No thank you, we're leaving soon."
"No worries.", I said and made mi way back to where Freddy was propping up the wall.
"How d'ya go Yorky?"
"How d'ya think? Up to shit Bonza mate! Even the fuckin' abbo sheilas knocked me back."
"That's it for me Yorky mate. I'm off back to Traps. This is too fuckin' embarrassing. They can shove their fuckin' Fox Trot up their tucker shute, for all I care! It's a stupid fuckin' dance anyway. Are you comin' mate?"
"I think I'll hang in here a bit longer Freddy. I guess I haven't had enough 'knock-backs' yet."
By the time the last waltz had played, most people had gone home. I, for one, had downed too many beers, trying to drown my disappointment and rejections. I was also none too happy with the voice in my head that told me, I was an ugly bastard. That's why they won't dance with you! In my drunken stupor, I answered the voice, out loud by saying,
"Fuck you, you're the ugly bastard!"
"Are you talking to me?", said a big fat cocky, as he walked close by me.
"No mate, I was talkin' to miself. I do that when I've had too many."
"Do you ever get an answer?", he asked.
"Yeah, that's the problem."
"I've got the same problem miself mate, only worse! I don't need to get full a' grog before I get started!", said the cocky.
The cocky gave me a pained smile as he left the hall. I was left thinkin' 'lucky he wasn't a cranky bastard or I might have been pickin' miself up off the floor by now.'
'Fuck this dancing caper', I thought as I left the dance hall. 'This is no good to me.' Trying to walk a straight line up the pavement, I stopped outside Blackers' Hotel and decided to go round the back to his outside urinal. On the way round, I noticed a few voices coming from the barroom. After trying the backdoor, which was locked, I walked into the piss house and unzipped mi fly.
As I stood there, on wobbly legs, I was thinking, 'Well at least I can have a piss when I want one! Last time I'm goin' dancin'.
That was the last thought I had as instant darkness surrounded me. The next thought to arise could have been a minute later or an hour later, I had no idea, whatsoever.
'WHERE AM I?' As I slowly came round, I became aware of the fact that I was wet and cold and could smell the stink of piss! The cold, hard fact of life hit me like a semi-fuckin'-trailer, head on!
I've crashed out in the piss trough! All one side of mi good, 'goin' out gear' is soakin' wet with piss! If that little disaster wasn't bad enough, the end of the piss trough grate was blocked up! Slowly, I regained my feet and then looked down at mi clothes. This was almost the worst disaster of mi life, I thought, as I stood there in the semi-darkness.
A few thoughts slowly crossed mi mind, as I stood there in total disbelief!
'I hope no one came in for a piss and saw a pommy, fuckin' bastard flaked out in the piss trough and pissed on me? Now you know how the abbos feel when they're full of plonk mate! Then, I heard Kevin Skippys' voice say, 'Ya not gonna' become like some of those fuckin' alchys' who hang out at Gilltraps bar are ya, Yorky mate? What d'ya think ya mother would say if she saw ya now mate?'
Up until that point, I had never realized how quickly one could sober up, in a dire situation. I decided to weave mi way along the back streets to Gilltraps, rather than risk the possibility of being seen walkin' up the main street with piss fumes rising off mi clothes! My main thought as I walked home was, 'Jeezus, I hope I don't run into someone I know or this little story will be all over Lake Cargelligo before I get back to Gilltraps!'
Finally! I made it back to Gilltraps, unseen. Once in mi room, I grabbed mi towel and soap, then headed for the shower stall. I made the water as hot as I could stand it, climbed out of mi good gear and threw them on the floor. I must have stayed in the shower for a good 20 minutes, trying to scrub away the smell of piss and the stink of shame!
There was a bucket in the shower area. As soon as I was finished, I stuffed mi clothes in it and went back to mi room to put some clean-smelling clothes on. After I was dressed, I went out the back of Giltraps and stuffed all mi good clothes in a rubbish bin and put other rubbish on top of 'em, trusting that no one would find 'em.
Back in mi room, as I laid on mi bed, I ran through the events of my big Saturday night out, which concluded with the false promise that I'd never drink again!
Once I woke up, after a few hours rest, I went down the hallway to Freddys' room. I was surprised to see Freddy half-full and drinkin' Tinnies with War Dog.
"Here he is!", said War Dog as I walked in. "The Pommy fucking Romeo of the Outback! The big Bush stud! The King of Root Rats!"
"Fuck you War Dog! Take the piss as much as ya like. It doesn't bother me mate!"
"I'm so glad you came Yorky. He's been takin' the piss out of me all afternoon."
"Don't listen to him Freddy, he's only jealous."
"Jealous of what? You two fuck-wits?"
"At least we got dressed up and went somewhere mate. What did you do? Keep ya' fuckin' piles warm on Gilltraps stool all night?"
"You leave my hemorrhoids out of it sport! You two are a bigger pain in the arse than my hemorrhoids will ever be!"
"Hey Yorky mate, did ya do any good after I left last night?"
"Nah mate, the only bright spot was when an old sheila came and asked me to join in the barn dance. I told her I was just leavin'."
"Why didn't ya put the hard word on her mate?", said War Dog, in a sarcastic way.
" 'Cause she had a face like yours mate, full a' fuckin' wrinkles!"
Freddy thought this was a great joke and burst out laughin' which finally ended in a fit of coughing.
"I hope ya fuckin' choke to death, ya yobo bastard!", said War Dog. "You two young blokes are as useless as tits on a boar pig! I told the pair of ya that if ya were lookin' to get a root at that dance, you'd end up frustrated and floggin' ya bloody maggot!"
"I wasn't floggin mi maggot War Dog.", said Freddy. "I was so bloody drunk, when I got home, I slept in mi good gear!"
"The problem with you two bastards is, ya can't hold ya fuckin' grog!"
"And you can, War Dog? What about the time ya chundered all over ya bed and Cath Gilltrap made ya dry clean the covers?"
"Fuck you, ya pommy bastard! I was sick with the flu when that happened!"
"Yeah, bottle flu!", I said.
"Ya know what? I don't have to sit here with you two fuckin' losers! I'm off back to the bar where I can get some intelligent conversation!"
With that said, War Dog finished his beer and stormed out.
"I think ya' upset him Yorky."
"Fuck that miserable bastard. He's alright when he's sober but when he's drunk, he's a mean, fuckin' dick-head!
