Wow, another blog already? You are welcome, Universe. Feel free to send me $88 in the mail as a thankyou present. I got a parking ticket yesterday and I'm poor as shit.
I can't really think of how to start this post, so I guess I'll just start typing and see where it takes me. I just chugged a whole bottle of water in one go and I've kind of got the huge 'water baby' faux-pregnancy belly thing going on. It's pretty distracting. But here goes:
Oh! Happy Birthday Richie! For yesterday. You are now 22 and that's pretty old, but you're way younger than both my parents. Feel good about that.
So last night (both in celebration of Richie's birth, and Geelong's crushing victory over Collingwood in the AFL grand final), a bunch of us went to Cabana. Good times. Great times, actually. They have this cocktail on the menu called a 'Jimmy Chew'. Clever, no? See what they did there? Because Jimmy Choo is a brand of shoes loved by women all over the world? And they changed it to Chew because...wait, actually, I'm kind of unclear on that. Can anyone else explain this? Chew? Regardless, it was a great cocktail. My favourite part of the night, though, was calling a cab to get there. It went something like this:
Guy: Taxis Combined, how can I help you?
Me: Hey, I just want to book a ta-
Guy: Heeeyyy, Jacki!
(What? How does this dude know my name? I had no idea. I just went with it.)
Guy: Where are you?
Me: Uhhh, Lane Cove. In Cope Street.
Guy: And where you going, girl?
Me: St Leonards, please. Cabana Bar.
Guy: Ooh, Cabana. Is that good?
Me: Yeah, sure.
Guy: You must be thirsty.
(I don't know. "??". That's what the silence sounded like.)
Guy: Okay, so you want to go now?
Guy: Alright. And I'll organise a special text, just for you. Wink.
(Not kidding. He actually said 'wink'.)
Guy: Have a good night, sexy.
Me: I will. And maybe we can meet up later.
Guy: Oh yeah? Sure!
Me: I've got your number. 133 300, right?
Guy: You got it.
Me: Great. Can't wait to kick you in the balls for being such a nutjob.
I made up some of that last part, but still. What?! Weirdest cab booking ever, only cementing my theory that I am the strongest 'abnormal cab driver' magnet in the universe. This was almost as bad as the time my cabbie tried to get me to smoke weed with him on the way home. True story. I know! I told you - total weirdo magnet.