Life is all about chance meetings isn't it? I often think that. Just imagine if I hadn't stayed in that dorm in that hostel in Taganga in Colombia, if I hadn't woken up when I did, if I hadn't been angry with them, if I hadn't spoken to them and if I hadn't decided to go with my impulse and follow them into the jungle after knowing them for only half an hour. If I hadn't of done all these things I would of met the Pussy Fags and had the time of my life with them (If you need a recap on this story please click on impulse for the post). But I did and now 5 months later I found myself at Heathrow airport, waiting in arrivals to pick one of them up, Biskey AKA Arnold, that is. When we were in Colombia he told me he was coming to London later in the year, so I said he could stay with me, and as I always mean what I say, here I was waiting for him at the airport, at six in the morning, full of cold and with no make up on! He appeared and he hadn't changed, still friendly and super chilled. We hugged and began to catch up.
"God" he begins " It seems like only yesterday, since we were all hanging out together in Bolivia".
"I never travelled with you in Bolivia Biskey" I reply.
"Really?"
"Yes really! I only travelled with you in Colombia!" I retort
"Oh yeah that's right?"
I'm hoping it's the jet lag. Later as the conversations continue, Biskey continues,
"Remember when we were in Playa Blanca and Italian Ed and Reuben were.....
I interrupt "Biskey I never went to Playa Blanca with you guys remember? I went to Bogota instead".
"Really?" he sounds confused
"Yes really!"
It turns out it's not jet lag. Biskey just has the worst memory ever. I ask him what he would like to do in London; where he wants to go and what he wants to see.
"I don't know. I know nothing about London" he replies.
"What you booked a ticket to the other side of the world and you know absolutely nothing about the place?" I ask in shock.
"Yeah! I thought it would be fun" he says calmly smoking his cigarette out of the car window. God I had forgotten how laid back Biskey was. If he was anymore laid back he'd be dead.
Biskey from the moment he arrives, fits into my house and the wick like part of the furniture, though it does help that he has brought whiskey and cigarettes for the housemates as presents as they seem to go down very well. There was one noticeable difference with Biskey though: He wasn't drinking! Now in Colombia him and the guys drank alcohol like it was water. Him and Reuben had decided to go dry for a month, which when I first heard about it, I thought it was a joke; it seems it's not. Biskey does very well, considering I seem to take him to places where everyone is drinking and getting drunk.
As I'm hanging out with a guy that I met while traveling and has come all the way from Australia, I get the usual questions from people,
"So what's going on with you and Biskey"?
Nothing actually! We are just good friends. In fact nothing ever went on with me and the seven guys I was traveling with in Colombia. I just loved their company. A girl can actually be friends with a guy without any stuff going on. Besides Biskey says I'm like a older sister to him (if not a little bit of a dysfunction one)!
I do get introduced to a new side of Biskey during his stay with me. I get to meet Business Biskey!!!!! For some one that is probably one of the most chilled people I have ever met, there is a switch which turns on when Biskey does work. Biskey is a computer programmer and so was skyping all the time his clients back in OZ. This is when business Biskey came out. I would compare him to a mix between Alan Sugar and Simon Cowell. Let's just say he doesn't take any shit.
"God" he begins " It seems like only yesterday, since we were all hanging out together in Bolivia".
"I never travelled with you in Bolivia Biskey" I reply.
"Really?"
"Yes really! I only travelled with you in Colombia!" I retort
"Oh yeah that's right?"
I'm hoping it's the jet lag. Later as the conversations continue, Biskey continues,
"Remember when we were in Playa Blanca and Italian Ed and Reuben were.....
I interrupt "Biskey I never went to Playa Blanca with you guys remember? I went to Bogota instead".
"Really?" he sounds confused
"Yes really!"
It turns out it's not jet lag. Biskey just has the worst memory ever. I ask him what he would like to do in London; where he wants to go and what he wants to see.
"I don't know. I know nothing about London" he replies.
"What you booked a ticket to the other side of the world and you know absolutely nothing about the place?" I ask in shock.
"Yeah! I thought it would be fun" he says calmly smoking his cigarette out of the car window. God I had forgotten how laid back Biskey was. If he was anymore laid back he'd be dead.
Biskey from the moment he arrives, fits into my house and the wick like part of the furniture, though it does help that he has brought whiskey and cigarettes for the housemates as presents as they seem to go down very well. There was one noticeable difference with Biskey though: He wasn't drinking! Now in Colombia him and the guys drank alcohol like it was water. Him and Reuben had decided to go dry for a month, which when I first heard about it, I thought it was a joke; it seems it's not. Biskey does very well, considering I seem to take him to places where everyone is drinking and getting drunk.
As I'm hanging out with a guy that I met while traveling and has come all the way from Australia, I get the usual questions from people,
"So what's going on with you and Biskey"?
Nothing actually! We are just good friends. In fact nothing ever went on with me and the seven guys I was traveling with in Colombia. I just loved their company. A girl can actually be friends with a guy without any stuff going on. Besides Biskey says I'm like a older sister to him (if not a little bit of a dysfunction one)!
I do get introduced to a new side of Biskey during his stay with me. I get to meet Business Biskey!!!!! For some one that is probably one of the most chilled people I have ever met, there is a switch which turns on when Biskey does work. Biskey is a computer programmer and so was skyping all the time his clients back in OZ. This is when business Biskey came out. I would compare him to a mix between Alan Sugar and Simon Cowell. Let's just say he doesn't take any shit.
One day Biskey informs me that Reuben who is travelling in Europe has come to London unexpectedly. Oh my God! Two of the pussy fags in London. Great! I go to meet them in China town after work. Now in Colombia me and Reuben sometimes clashed, and had one or two arguments. In fact our farewell was I think me saying,
"Goodbye Reuben, I'm off to Bogata now. Are you going to say good bye or not!"
He turned slightly in his bed where he was lying hungover and went,
"Yeah what ever! " and went back to his slumber.
"Oh! Piss off Reuben" were my departing words.
This time was different. He seemed glad to see me and I him. We talked like adults, well as adult as we can be. Reuben being Reuben doesn't do things by half, and had booked himself into a posh 5 star hotel in Knightsbridge for the night and I found myself there with the guys drinking wine and as it got late I ended up staying over spending the night in a luxury suite in a king sized bed, wedged between two Aussies (it was all very innocent)! The next morning I get up early as I have to go to work, and leave the guys in bed. I get to the lobby looking very disheveled and very out of place, not having a clue where I really am. The receptionist spies me.
"Can I help you Madame?
I ask where the nearest tube is and he directs me. As I'm leaving something occurs to me. Oh God! I think, I look out of place here and disheveled and he probably saw me go to the room with two men and now he's seen me leaving on my own! I bet he thinks I'm a hooker! Well a least it will be a high class hooker, I'm in a 5 star hotel!
As soon as he arrived, Reuben was gone again. A nice but short reunion. He got a flight to Berlin that night. Totally crazy, totally erratic and you never know what he's going to do next, but that's maybe why I like him. I hate normal people. A least this time my farewell to him was a nice one. I think maybe we understand each other better now.
Biskey left to go to Berlin, but we arranged to meet up in Paris and and a couple of weeks later I found myself in a his rented studio apartment, in Paris.
"It's a bit small isn't it?" I said looking at a space you couldn't swing a cat in. Biskey just thinks its cool and bohemian. I give Biskey the low down on Paris as I've been many times before and he's a Paris virgin.
1. Parisians are the biggest snobs ever.
2. You can try and attempt to speak the little French you know, but I wouldn't bother as they also seem to get annoyed at people speaking bad French, so you can't win!
3. Do not get wasted in Paris, as no one really does here and it's looked down upon.
4. Make sure that everyone knows your Australia and not English as they will be nicer to you. The French hate the English.
On the Saturday night, Biskey wants to go to a nightclub, as he loves house music. I hate house music and I don't go to nightclubs anymore. I'm not very thrilled about it all but go along anyway. Soon we've made friends with a Swedish guy, I've downed a load of drinks and I'm having a great time dancing away on the dance floor (it's funny how alcohol changes your mind)! Biskey and the Swedish guy decide they want a cigarette so I go with them to the smoking area. As they are smoking I get talking to some guy in Spanish. I'm deep in a drunken conversation when the next thing I know I can see Biskey being dragged through the fire exit doors by some big burly bouncer. What the hell! Me and the Swedish guy run after him. The bouncer deposits Biskey on the street, and shouts that he's not coming back in! What's going on I ask.
"I don't know?" Says Biskey.
Rule number 4! "You didn't say you were English did you?" I ask.
The next thing I know we end up in some God awful Australia bar in central Paris. Biskey gets excited about some strange Australian beer the bar is selling. I turn by back for one minute and look back to see that Biskey is getting in a huge, nearly fight like argument with the barman. I realise then that drinking Biskey is back, and now I remember that in Colombia the pussy fags caused havoc where ever they went! "Biskey we are leaving!"
"Goodbye Reuben, I'm off to Bogata now. Are you going to say good bye or not!"
He turned slightly in his bed where he was lying hungover and went,
"Yeah what ever! " and went back to his slumber.
"Oh! Piss off Reuben" were my departing words.
This time was different. He seemed glad to see me and I him. We talked like adults, well as adult as we can be. Reuben being Reuben doesn't do things by half, and had booked himself into a posh 5 star hotel in Knightsbridge for the night and I found myself there with the guys drinking wine and as it got late I ended up staying over spending the night in a luxury suite in a king sized bed, wedged between two Aussies (it was all very innocent)! The next morning I get up early as I have to go to work, and leave the guys in bed. I get to the lobby looking very disheveled and very out of place, not having a clue where I really am. The receptionist spies me.
"Can I help you Madame?
I ask where the nearest tube is and he directs me. As I'm leaving something occurs to me. Oh God! I think, I look out of place here and disheveled and he probably saw me go to the room with two men and now he's seen me leaving on my own! I bet he thinks I'm a hooker! Well a least it will be a high class hooker, I'm in a 5 star hotel!
As soon as he arrived, Reuben was gone again. A nice but short reunion. He got a flight to Berlin that night. Totally crazy, totally erratic and you never know what he's going to do next, but that's maybe why I like him. I hate normal people. A least this time my farewell to him was a nice one. I think maybe we understand each other better now.
Biskey left to go to Berlin, but we arranged to meet up in Paris and and a couple of weeks later I found myself in a his rented studio apartment, in Paris.
"It's a bit small isn't it?" I said looking at a space you couldn't swing a cat in. Biskey just thinks its cool and bohemian. I give Biskey the low down on Paris as I've been many times before and he's a Paris virgin.
1. Parisians are the biggest snobs ever.
2. You can try and attempt to speak the little French you know, but I wouldn't bother as they also seem to get annoyed at people speaking bad French, so you can't win!
3. Do not get wasted in Paris, as no one really does here and it's looked down upon.
4. Make sure that everyone knows your Australia and not English as they will be nicer to you. The French hate the English.
On the Saturday night, Biskey wants to go to a nightclub, as he loves house music. I hate house music and I don't go to nightclubs anymore. I'm not very thrilled about it all but go along anyway. Soon we've made friends with a Swedish guy, I've downed a load of drinks and I'm having a great time dancing away on the dance floor (it's funny how alcohol changes your mind)! Biskey and the Swedish guy decide they want a cigarette so I go with them to the smoking area. As they are smoking I get talking to some guy in Spanish. I'm deep in a drunken conversation when the next thing I know I can see Biskey being dragged through the fire exit doors by some big burly bouncer. What the hell! Me and the Swedish guy run after him. The bouncer deposits Biskey on the street, and shouts that he's not coming back in! What's going on I ask.
"I don't know?" Says Biskey.
Rule number 4! "You didn't say you were English did you?" I ask.
The next thing I know we end up in some God awful Australia bar in central Paris. Biskey gets excited about some strange Australian beer the bar is selling. I turn by back for one minute and look back to see that Biskey is getting in a huge, nearly fight like argument with the barman. I realise then that drinking Biskey is back, and now I remember that in Colombia the pussy fags caused havoc where ever they went! "Biskey we are leaving!"
I left Biskey in Paris to carry on with his European tour. Over a month later he returned back to London and our flat to catch his flight back to Oz and to celebrate my birthday. I realised I'd missed him a lot. He has become a good friend, and I can tell him anything. It was during one of these conversations that I discovered wise Biskey. I was moaning about men to him and the situation's I was in. He turned to me and said,
"Well Carly, I have no sympathy for you. You have put yourself in these situations, because you let these guys do this to you. You only make yourself sad. Why do you let these dick heads into your life, when they never treated you well and so never deserved you in the first place! You don't need them! Either sort it out, do something about it and stop being the victim or shut up about it, because you have done it to yourself!"
I sat there for a second feeling a bit shocked by his rant, but then realised he was completely right. It was completely my own fault because I always let people treat me this way. That night I went and erased everyone from life, who didn't treat me right, who let me down or who played games with me. Those who it was not possible to erase from my life, I changed my mind set to; I let go of them and moved on. It was time to stop making myself unhappy. It was quite liberating and I felt so much better instantly. I liked wise Biskey. He gave me the kick up the arse I needed.
I dropped Biskey at the airport where I had picked him up 2 months earlier. I felt really sad. With that chance meeting in Colombia, I realised I had made a true friend. I know I will see him again. Now I just need to, some how get my ass to the other side of the world for a full reunion with all the pussy fags. Now that will be a story worth telling believe me!
"Well Carly, I have no sympathy for you. You have put yourself in these situations, because you let these guys do this to you. You only make yourself sad. Why do you let these dick heads into your life, when they never treated you well and so never deserved you in the first place! You don't need them! Either sort it out, do something about it and stop being the victim or shut up about it, because you have done it to yourself!"
I sat there for a second feeling a bit shocked by his rant, but then realised he was completely right. It was completely my own fault because I always let people treat me this way. That night I went and erased everyone from life, who didn't treat me right, who let me down or who played games with me. Those who it was not possible to erase from my life, I changed my mind set to; I let go of them and moved on. It was time to stop making myself unhappy. It was quite liberating and I felt so much better instantly. I liked wise Biskey. He gave me the kick up the arse I needed.
I dropped Biskey at the airport where I had picked him up 2 months earlier. I felt really sad. With that chance meeting in Colombia, I realised I had made a true friend. I know I will see him again. Now I just need to, some how get my ass to the other side of the world for a full reunion with all the pussy fags. Now that will be a story worth telling believe me!
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