"Do you want to meet the coolest guy I know?"
This was the question asked by duckworth at his party/band gig on Sunday night.
Of course! I said and was (re)introduced to ex-goth boy. (How do I know he was an ex-goth, you ask? Only my friend's estimation upon me telling her he has a blog... and both of us recognised him from 90s exeter days. So maybe that "ex" stands for exeter-goth boy???)
Ex-goth boy gave me a run down on the etiquette of getting a girls phone numbers (you don't ask for her number, you ask if you can give her your number), and how text messaging has changed the whole expectancy of phone calls-once we used to worry if someone didn't phone back/phone in for four days, now we angst over not receiving replies INSTANTLY. Uhuh. I did try a bit of a two-way conversation with ex-goth boy, but realised I made a far better impression when I just listened. He and Duckworth have a mutual admiration going on, due to their interest and intelligent insights into the state of Adelaide independent music (yes, they were the words).
Let it be said that I am not doing a high and mighty, "Me better than him" posting here, for ex-goth guy made me laugh describing his blog entries about a girl he had a bad date experience with (he called her a retard once he realised she didn't like him, she just wanted him to buy her drinks). After Duckworth's band finished their set, I noticed him leaning against the wall wistfully looking at the drums and said to LP, who was lounging on the couch next to me,
"Ex-goth boy wants to meet a beautiful girl tonight..." and so forth.
I so love Adelaide guys, middle class guys who are poetic and musical and seek beautiful guys to be their muse. Guys who read aloud their diary entries to the accompaniment of cymbals clashing and short guitar chords. They are always in love with the beautiful unattainable girl, the one with a boyfriend and long long hair and a whimsical vague way of being, the girl who disappears or loses her mind to drugs or mental health issues, who gets out of town to chill out...
There was also a dude there wearing a scarf around his neck, opshop polyester shirt over long sleeves, flared cords and converse sneakers (I kid you not; nearly had to text-describe it to my brisbanite flatmate). I could have been led there blindfolded and out of a coma and known it was an Adelaide party. And love duckworth and his creative vibes, the fiction he writes, his collection of videos and overflowing bookshelves, his sparse flat and humble nature, his incredible sense of humour and ability to make us laugh and think of new things.
Of course! I said and was (re)introduced to ex-goth boy. (How do I know he was an ex-goth, you ask? Only my friend's estimation upon me telling her he has a blog... and both of us recognised him from 90s exeter days. So maybe that "ex" stands for exeter-goth boy???)
Ex-goth boy gave me a run down on the etiquette of getting a girls phone numbers (you don't ask for her number, you ask if you can give her your number), and how text messaging has changed the whole expectancy of phone calls-once we used to worry if someone didn't phone back/phone in for four days, now we angst over not receiving replies INSTANTLY. Uhuh. I did try a bit of a two-way conversation with ex-goth boy, but realised I made a far better impression when I just listened. He and Duckworth have a mutual admiration going on, due to their interest and intelligent insights into the state of Adelaide independent music (yes, they were the words).
Let it be said that I am not doing a high and mighty, "Me better than him" posting here, for ex-goth guy made me laugh describing his blog entries about a girl he had a bad date experience with (he called her a retard once he realised she didn't like him, she just wanted him to buy her drinks). After Duckworth's band finished their set, I noticed him leaning against the wall wistfully looking at the drums and said to LP, who was lounging on the couch next to me,
"Ex-goth boy wants to meet a beautiful girl tonight..." and so forth.
I so love Adelaide guys, middle class guys who are poetic and musical and seek beautiful guys to be their muse. Guys who read aloud their diary entries to the accompaniment of cymbals clashing and short guitar chords. They are always in love with the beautiful unattainable girl, the one with a boyfriend and long long hair and a whimsical vague way of being, the girl who disappears or loses her mind to drugs or mental health issues, who gets out of town to chill out...
There was also a dude there wearing a scarf around his neck, opshop polyester shirt over long sleeves, flared cords and converse sneakers (I kid you not; nearly had to text-describe it to my brisbanite flatmate). I could have been led there blindfolded and out of a coma and known it was an Adelaide party. And love duckworth and his creative vibes, the fiction he writes, his collection of videos and overflowing bookshelves, his sparse flat and humble nature, his incredible sense of humour and ability to make us laugh and think of new things.
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