The lift's broken!
Terrible news for most but not for me! Due to this malfunction the house keeping staff could not get all the clean bedding up to the appropriate floor.
I saw an opportunity and I went for it. In exchange for $50 behind the bar I popped my sports gear on and shifted a good 30-40 bags of bed sheets up two flights of stairs.
A nice little earner.
During my following shift on Tuesday 50 new bunk beds were delivered. I ditched the travel desk and got paired up with Clay a big ozzy guy from Sydney, a proffessional rugby league player taking a year off. We spent the day having a laugh and destroying the old bunk beds and building some squeak free new ones.
Today, however, was very much not a work day.
I had a nice lay in before hopping on my bike and cycling a 50-60km return trip up the Yarra river. It was a really nice ride. Although I did have to work hard on e first 15km as my front wheel had unscrewed itself causing a lot of drag on my now wonky wheel/brake system!
After I pounded out those tough yard I had a great time pelting through a farm and cross country tracks. At my furthest point I dismounted for a little rest and a read. I hopped across some rocks on the rapids and read my book on a large rock in the middle of the rumbling river. The setting was so nice I was surprised when I woke up an hour later with my book on my face lying in the middle of the river! I gathered myself and remembered where I was and cycled back to town.
I met up with Clay for one, two or three beers that evening.
It was really cool to be hanging out with a rugby lad again and I may have got stuck in a little too much to the bag of goon. Seeing as I woke up at 4am locked in a cupboard on the fith floor!
I had gone up with some apparent strangers and fallen for the oldest trick in the book... "I bet you couldn't fit in that cupboard."
Well I bloody well could!
Then they went to bed....!
That was not the only fun we had that evening!
Earlier in the night Clay and I had decided to be the 'men' and hunt out to get more drink.
We left with a spring in our steps already anticipating the heros welcome we would arrive back to.
Then came a series of unfortunate events...
We jumped in a cab and I asked for Melbourne sentral station. The cabby then took us all round the houses before we arrived at ...Bourke street mall... Out raged I insisted this was not where we wanted to go. The cabby was clearly a hot head and started to shout me down. Clay stayed calm and, addressing the camera rather than the dick head cabby, said clearly that we had been taken to the wrong place and we were leaving without paying.
We then scarpered. Only to find Clay had left his wallet in the fuming taxi drivers car.
So we doubled back and he was still there! Doors locked. Clay knocked the window and the cabby let him in. Clay grabbed the wallet, turned to the taxi driver and said something along the lines of "you silly f***er! You could have got paid then! But instead your just an idiot!" (Clay definitely didn't say idiot but I'll leave the truth up to your imagination!).
We walked to where we wanted to go, all closed.
But we bumped into Ruben, a mate of mine from the hostel. He told us two blocks up would be open. Excited, we jogged there. Closed. But a kind stranger gave us an address.
We hopped into another cab -thankfully not the same one as earlier!- and went.
Success! So I purchased the most expensive box of wine in history and we crabbed back to the park. Our hand aloft in victory. The manly providers expecting a heros welcome.
No one there... All got bored and gone home.
With our pride and egos still swelled for providing so amply a box of four litres we tucked into it ourselves.
After a little while -and a few texts- we got a few more numbers to join us before heading home. In a delicate state, and all alone, that is when the cupboard trappers struck.
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