» Overheard secrets

Best. Meal. Ever!
Sitting in a pub having a quiet schnitzel and chips with the missus one night a couple walked in and took a table around the corner from us. It was an odd-shaped restaurant area and they clearly didn't think anyone was near them. We were eating, so hadn't said anything as they arrived, and their conversation started.
"Look before we order, I want to tell you something," she said.
"I was pregnant, but I'm not anymore. As of this last week."
And so it began.
The girl had been pregnant, the guy was outraged he hadn't been told, she said it was because they'd been broken up for the past month and she didn't know if they were ever getting back together, he said oh darling how horrible for you to go through that alone, she revealed it was an abortion, he was outraged, she revealed he wasn't the father, he was apoplectic, she said she'd slept with someone else because she'd found out about him and her best friend, he was ashamed, she said she was only with him now to hurt him, he said was only with her now to win her back, she said she didn't love him at all, he said he loved only her, she cried and said she really loved him too, he said "Ha!" I lied I don't really love you, she called him a bad word, he dashed down his cutlery... and a woman walked up to say "Hi there, just wondering if you'd like to take part in the trivia contest later? Here's a pen and... oh, have I come at a bad time?"
The trivia lady left, the man stormed off and the woman, with a defiant snort, got up to leave as well..
And saw us sitting there slack-jawed with a fork still halfway to our mouths from when they'd started five minutes before.
Dinner theatre at its finest.
(Fri 26th Aug 2011, 7:58, More)

» Anonymous

Not me, but wish it was...
Bit of a pea roast, but appropriate...
A guy I worked with rode his motorbike to work every day and one day was cut off, intentionally by some guy who forced him off the road, watched him crash and yelled "Sucker!" or somethign similar as he drove away. The motorbike rider got his numberplate though and this being Queensland in the 1980s, called a mate on the force who quite happily gave him the driver's name, address and phone number.
So later that day he phones him up...
"Hello? This is the guy on the black Ducati you cut off today. I'm going to get you. Might not be today, might not be tomorrow, but sooner or later I'm going to get you..."
And this went on for AGES. The driver changed his number, even moved house (coincidental, I'm sure, not becuase of the calls) but every time the friend in uniform would give him the new details and he'd start up again. Years after it all started I ran into my old colleague in a pub and asked what had happened.
"You know what? I haven't called him in about two years! Let's give it a go!"
And off to the payphone...
"Hello mate, its me, the guy on the black Ducati..."
Apparently at this point the guy just started screaming "Leave me alone! Leave me alone!!!" And up he hung.
I like to think that every now and then he still makes a call.
(Fri 15th Jan 2010, 0:05, More)

» Mad Stuff You've Done To Get Someone To Sleep With You

Quite the opposite, but I love telling this story
Years ago I was sitting in a pub with my mate Derek, we were playing a game whereby you shake all your change up, then stack it and try to guess whether the next one down is heads or tails. If you're right, you keep the coin and go again... and so on until the stack is done.
Whoever has the most coins wins and the loser has to buy the round of drinks.
As we were playing, Derek noticed a rather fetching girl watching.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello," she replied, "what are you doing?"
"We're playing a game whereby you shake all your change up, then stack it and try to guess whether the next one down is heads or tails," he replied.
"If you're right, you keep the coin and go again... and so on until the stack is done. Whoever has the most coins wins and the loser has to buy the round of drinks."
"That sounds like fun," she said.
"Do you wanna go?" he asked.
"Um.. OK," she said, picking up her bag and jacket and walking to the door.
Derek sat there for about five seconds before he realised she'd heard "do you want to go" instead of "do you want a go".
He shrugged, drained his beer, then walked out the door with her.
And yes, apparently she was an excellent shag.
He STILL has no explanation for this utterly random act of good fortune.
(Mon 16th Apr 2007, 7:30, More)

» Housemates

So many choices...
The girls who demanded I pay a share of the food even though I ate at the work canteen or the pub every meal? Nah.
The girl who used my dog's flea soap rather than pay for a cake of regular soap? Nah.
The guy who woke me up waving a running chainsaw at my face? Nah.
For my money it was the girlfriend of a housemate who moved in with us, made life shit in so many petty ways, then convinced him to move out.
I'd steadfastly refused to help him pack, confident it was a stupid move and he'd be back anyway but came back from the pub as they were about to leave.
Everything was boxed up in the truck, goodbyes were being said when she realised the CD currently playing on the stereo was "hers".
"Um... no, that's mine actually," I say.
"No it isn't, it's mine!" she insists, popping it out, putting it in the cover and jamming it into the last box.
"Actually, that is Difficultchild's", her embarrassed boyfriend explains, opening the box to take it back out.
"And... er... so is this one. And this one too. Um and this one."
"But I listen to them all the time!"
"Well that's fine, but they're not actually ours, so we can't take them."
She gets shitty, stamps her feet and glares at me as he starts removing selected CDs and handing them back.
Eventually there's a pile of about 30 cds in front of me when he says.
"Hang on, this is Difficultchild's book too..."
"But I love that book!"
"Yes, but it's not yours... maybe we should just have a quick look through the whole box and make sure there's nothing else that got accidentally mixed up."
And so began what turned out to be more than an hour of unpacking everything from the truck as every box revealed more of my stuff she had packed away because she either used it, liked it, wanted it etc.
I'm talking CDs (more than 100, I was reviewing them at the time and had stacks of the things) DVDs (at least 30), books (about 50), pots, pans, plates, kitchen knives, the blender, a pepper mill, herbs, spices, canned foods, blankets, towells, a skateboard, games, toys, my fucking guitar!!!, plants from the back yard, bottles of wine, stuff from the bathroom, stuff from the junk room (tools, power and otherwise) etc etc etc.
Basically if it wasn't in my locked room, she'd tried to take it.
He was mortified. She was ropable and kept saying "But I use that ALL THE TIME!!!" or something similar.
I was delighted.
The truck was a lot lighter as they left and in the next week I got another box of stuff back he'd found while unpacking.
Then I recovered some more while visiting.
It was all too much, they had a messy break up, he took everything that was his... actually that should read "he took everything" and moved back in.
Funnily enough I ran into her a couple of years later and she asked if I still had that book of hers she'd loaned me.
I laughed so hard beer came out my nose.
(Fri 27th Feb 2009, 2:00, More)

» Schadenfreude

I should have felt bad... but meh...
Suicidal Tendencies (The band) were playing in Sydney and I, as an aging punk, decided this was unmissable.
They start playing and I place myself on the edge of the mosh pit, just out of reach of the spinning mass of similarly aging punks who have all come out for one night and are suitable pissed up and energetic as they run around in circles and slam into each other like men who know they're only allowed out once in a while and better make the most of it.
So...
Behind me are a pair of bogans who are clearly smashed and clearly having a ball playing at being alternative. Amateur goth makeup, a t-shirt with "fuck" written on it in marker men and a few safety pins dotted around. You get the idea.
So after about ten seconds they both start jumping into me, their idea of a mini mosh, I assume.
I've been in moshpits for the better part of 20 years so I wasn't too fussed at first and then when I got annoyed I moved a bit to the side, but they moved too and continued to run up and jump into me and a couple of others who were also standing at the edge of the mayhem, pushing me again and again.
I turned around between a song and asked - politely, honest! - if they minded.
"If you don't like it, fuck off home!" screams the girl.
OK. So I move over a bit more, she follows and starts pushing into me again as soon as the next song starts. I turn around, she gives me a big smile and pushes again.
Or at least that was her plan, I moved out of the way as she started and she sailed past straight into the middle of the mass and disappeared from view. When the song ended, she made her way back out, looking utterly traumatised, with hair everywhere, tears galore and blood streaming out of her nose.
Poor little thing.
(Tue 22nd Dec 2009, 4:36, More)