I was looking through my drafts the other day, and realized that I had completely forgotten about this post, which I had meant to write for St. Patrick’s day! It was in the midst of my move from Blogger to a self-hosted WordPress, and through my frustration in attempting to get everything to work, I completely forgot to post this!
So while it is no longer St. Patrick’s Day, Irish loving should be something that is shared all year round. So here’s a story about me and some Irish guys that I met in Australia. The whole thing was so hilarious and crazy that I still remembered and wrote it in my journal the next day, despite being only half-conscious at the time.
Background: This happened when I was in a hostel in Airlie Beach. The hostels there are all cabin-style with an outdoor patio. I originally stayed in a cabin with some Swiss and Swedish guys who left the day before. My sailing trip was delayed so I ended up staying an extra week to sail, and to reunite with some friends I met earlier in Hervey Bay.
The Swiss and Swedish guys had sailed off (literally), and after coming back to my cabin in the late afternoon, I discovered that I was now sharing a room with 4 other guys. It was obvious they were Irish from their accents, and they looked like they were in their late-teens, to early twenty-something – gap yearers, perhaps?
The room looked as if a hurricane had struck, as they were all busy rummaging through their bags for something. They all look up simultaneously as I entered the room, and one of them asks me right away, “do you have a pair of socks I can borrow?”
I said no, and pointed to my flip flops. We talked a little bit, before parting ways. Them to dinner, and me, also to dinner (there’s only so much things you can do in Airlie Beach), but with some friends from another cabin.
That night, I got back exhausted after an eventful night out with some friends at the bar, and finding my room empty, I instantly fell asleep.
I don’t know how long I was asleep for, but I was woken up sometime during the night by the sound of an Irish voice right next to me. I couldn’t really make out what he was saying, but he kept repeating the same sentence over and over and eventually I realized that he was giving me a compliment.
“Hey, you’re really beautiful”
In my sleepy, alcohol induced state, I figured it must be Colin Farrell. That Colin, sure he is pretty attractive with his messy hair and bad boy persona, but must he really hit on every girl he meets?
I opened my eyes slightly only to see that it wasn’t Colin after all. Instead, it turned out to be the guy who asked for socks earlier.
Where am I anyway?
Oh right, Australia.
The guy, happy to see that I’ve finally awoken, excitedly asks, “Can we have sex?”
(Quite the charmer, I know)
Luckily before I had to come up with a response, I was saved by the 3 other Irish guys who bursted into the room.
One of them shouted, “What was that sound?!”
“Did the door just open?!” another screamed.
“Something’s moving outside!!” exclaimed the last.
It was obvious they were tripping out like mad.
They were convinced that something was outside, and dragged Sockless Guy outside to unearth what that the strange “sound” was. In their jittery and spooked out state, the other guys didn’t even see me on the bottom bunk bed. Sockless tried to protest being dragged outside, but when you have 3 Irish guys on a weed-induced Indiana Jones like quest, it was better to obediently follow, than to suffer the consequences.
After they left, the room became strangely quiet, aside from screams of, “did you hear that?!” coming from outside. I sat upright on my bed for a few minutes laughing and trying to figure out what just happened, but then decided that some things were better left unquestioned.