Let's Get Retarded

BDO. Big Day Out. It's always hot and sweaty. Dirty and Dusty. It's seriously 5 degrees hotter in The West. Everyone's always DRUNK and there are always a lot of Australian flags in attendance: wrapped around shoulders, as cap/top/pant material, in real or fake tattoos. The theme song for most people at the BDO would have to be that Black Eyed Peas ditty - Let's Get Retarded [or Get it Started if we're going for the radio edit.I would've embedded it but that function has been removed by their record label. Whatevs.]

It's a particular experience the BDO, but there's always one good reason to go. This year it was to see TV On The Radio, who were great. Along the way I also had some random observations and encounters:

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A very sweet girl came up to me and pointed to her very unwell looking friend ''excuse me, you look like the kind of girl who is always prepared, do you have any panadol? Gesturing to my bag you carry a lot of stuff with you, so I thought you might have some in there?"

I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or insult?

Funnily enough for the last few weeks since I had my wisdom tooth removed I have been carrying a chemist's assortment of painkillers: panadol, nurofen, even panadeine forte, but this is a new bag and I was nothing but disappointment for this girl. I'm not really a girlie girl. I carry a big bag but I don't have any make-up in it, no panadol, no emergency nail-repair kits. Nothing useful like that. Usually just an umbrella, a change of shoes, a scarf/cardigan, 1000 pens that don't work and maybe a note book or newspaper/magazine. She looked confused and I suggested she try the first aid tent.

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I LEFT EARLY BECAUSE

I didn't want/need to see Neil Young.I tried to be discrete about it, but one friend introduced me to a cute, but total hipster, male friend of hers saying "this is Anna, she hates Neil Young." He looked me up and down and dismissively said "oh, do you only like modern music do you?" Hell no brother, give me old school classics in any genre any day, just don't make me sit and watch Neil Young.

So I snuck out, found the train station and started the mission to get home.


Well what an experience that was.

I was sharing the middle section of the train with an intensely chatty [annoying] drunk American girl, a very drunk well travelled bogan from Melbourne, a quietly drunk Irish girl and a hilariously funny, fluro-sunglass wearing bogan from Queensland. And a quiet girl with a white plastic bag. There was also a very sober woman with a small child when we all got on, but after about 30 seconds of cuss language and groans about throwing up, she promptly got up and relocated. The next 25 minutes was a running commentary on throwing up and would've caused our Big Kev some concern, as it seems like his attempt to change the Australian culture of binge drinking hasn't been that successful.

Here's a transcript of just a snippet for you:

[Blue t-shirted guy gets up, opens door of train carriage, connecting to next train.] "It's hot in here. I need some air. I'm gunna be sick... This train reminds me of Egypt. I go Egypt a bit. I'm a pilot. Trains in Sydney are disgusting, I'm from Melbourne, this is the first time I've caught a Sydney train. Does anyone know what I can do to stop this nausea? [groan] How far til Redfern? I just need to get home, have a cold shower, throw up for half an hour and then pass out. [groan] Or maybe I should throw up first and then have a shower? Dunno. I just need to spew. You know when your gut really hurts after you chuck up? Well that's how I feel now. [groan] I just went into the toilets, spewed and then left. Didn't even find me mates. But I so need to be sick. Don't worry I won't be sick on the train. I was sick as we changed trains at that last station, but I won't be sick now. I need to spew... pause .. you know what it was? It was that half-strength vodka shit, that's what made me sick. That half-strength vodka. I'm never drinking again. [groan] I'm gunna be sick.

And on it went for the entire trip, with frequent interjections from the chatty American about inane things. The guy from Queensland and his Irish girlfriend were going on to do a pub crawl of the George Street/Darling Harbour pubs. Scruffy Murphy's and others. The girl with the plastic bag kept it close to her mouth and heaved a bit. I don't think she actually brought anything up but she was certainly close.

I just kept quiet and took notes.