easy acess

In the hostel in Newcastle, Dave and I met a group of guys drinking beers and eating in the kitchen. One or two of them were from Australia, one was from Ireland, and one was from Britain. They were really pleasant and welcoming. They had all just met each other a few days before.

I talked to all of them, but I ended up talking with the man from Britain the most. I think his name was Robin, and he works in a gym in Bristol. Somehow, we got on the subject of Stella Artois, and how in the US it is marked as a classy beer, whereas in Europe it is nothing special. Robin told us that in the ‘80s, it was called ‘the wife beater’ beer because it had some ingredient in it that made guys go a little crazy. Robin himself stays away from Stella, because it makes him feel a bit funny.

We got on to the subject of movies, specifically ‘80s science fiction movies and Bill Paxton. Robin was very enthusiastic about this subject. He quoted several Paxton lines, including, ‘game over man, game over,’ and ‘well why don’t you put her in charge then?’ (both from Aliens). I told him he should watch A Simple Plan. We both agreed, Bill Paxton is good at being pathetic.

Later in the night, this attractive German girl that Robin obviously wanted remarked that the top button on his pants was undone. I keep them that way for easy access, he said. Paramedics are underpaid and I want to save them time should something happen. It could mean that they could move on faster to save another life, he explained. I added: it’s like how I have down on my driver’s license that I’m an organ donor, so I can save lives.

A while later, Dave and I challenged another guy and a girl to a game of pool, but I went upstairs for a while and lost track of time. When I got down, Dave was in bad shape, but I was able to clean things up a little bit. One of the Australians was talking to these two scantily-clad women about a club called ‘club sin.’ I said to the two women, you two look like you must be familiar with club sin. Surprisingly, I got away with it, and they just laughed. When I went upstairs, I told Robin about what’d I said. Oh, those girls? They’re from Essex. Jack the Ripper always went for girls from Essex, and that bastard had good taste, Robin informed me.

When we went out, it was noted by several people that I looked like Napoleon Dynamite. Much later in the night, when we were back at the hostel, I put my head out the window to call to Dave who was outside in the smoking are, and some bro again remarked that I look like NP. Well, I gave him some attitude, and for the rest of the night he was nice to me. I guess my glasses just don’t always translate well. You can’t win them all. That’s what my friend Amanda often says, or some variation thereof.