Butch aka Travis

Last night was my work party, all the film types got together and had a few drinks.

I on the other hand brought the house down, i got severly fucked out of my gord, in the end, i was purely running on adrenaline and a gram of speed, and pure 100% Travis,

Thats me, Travis, the last of a dying breed, I am the wildest mudderfucker you could ever meet, trust me, I am a bad boy, and for the record, so is Rupert.

And so it came to that I managed to yet again embaress myself. I did everything I shouldnt have. I harrased girls, I fell over, I couldnt stand without stumbling, I danced the robot, and I stole a bottle of Vodka from over the bar. At the time, I thought everybody was having fun with me, but with the benefit of hindsight I can see they were a little worried.

I am not a messy drunk, I am just a hard drinker, I can drink and drink and drink, fall down, drink more, throw up drink more, then pass out, wake up and go to the beach to sweat out another hangover. But last night, I was messy

I put it down to my background, South Africans, in generall and big drinkers, we get load and dominate.

The party really got started when I dressed up like Santa

There were 4 incidents of concern

Incident #1: The Ben Incident::

A Freind of me A we shall call her, told me to keep this guy who she acciently slept with far away from her. I forgot all about it, and in the midst of my absolute peak drunedness, I spotted them chatting. I walked over to distance them, but didnt take it well. He started shouting at me, and then told me he wasnt afraid of me. So I pushed him on the ground. I was immediatly confronted by 3 screaming females telling me to stop, but I was only looking after a friend!

Later on, Ben’s housemate (who is a friend of mine) had a serious chat with me about something, I forget what it is.

Incident #2 The Amy Concern::

There is this girl at work, who i dont like, but am friends with, people tease me that I like her, but I really dont. Anway, i was heading off the the toilet, and she had just left. People saw me follwing her, and just before we got there, we had a breif chat, all of a sudden 3 people I work with showed up (one of them my divisional manager) and grabbed me and pulled me away from her, They told me to leave her alone, and to calm down (?!?) So I left, but went into the arms of my English friend Nick, and shortly after we sang ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’ as loud as we could.

Incident #3, The Bottle of Vodka Incident::

This one actually concerns me. I reached over and stole a bottle of vodka from the bar. THe tab had dried up, and I couldnt be fucked going to an ATM. I made no attempt to conceal the bottle, rather I just walked around with it casually as anything swigging from it. I even showed my boss!

Why am I worried? I was told directly to be a good boy, by him, and I wasnt, so that’s that.

Incident #4, The Don’t Care Incident::

I got cornerd with my supervisor. He was saying this and that, about I have talent, but I dont pay attention to detail, and how one day I could be in his shoes. He had been going for about 5 minutes straight, when in the middle of his speech, I turned to him and said, “I dont fucking care” and got up and left. He was gobsmacked, how I am going to face this on Monday I dont know

You may ask why I said that. Look, my work is great, but its other peoples work, not my own, and that is sould destroying.

But I woke up today with a strange feeling, a feeling of my last sentiment of the previous evening “I dont fucking care”, and I really really do not. If I walk in on Monday, and people look at me like I am a criminal, I dont care, If I get fired for stealing a bottle of vodka, I dont care, If I dont have full time work, I dont care, If I get a talking to…. yup, you guessed it, I dont care.

I have spent the last few months caring, caring about what everyone thinks and watching my actions, but to release myself last night was so satisfying. It further pushes the belief I firmly hold, that I will never fully be at home amongst the gum trees, as I am just not an Australian and never will be. I have these flashbacks of people faces last night. I assume I was the first 100kgs drunk boistrous South African they have ever scene, as they had the look of fear in their eyes, a look I am slowly becoming accustomed to in this dry dusty shithole of a country.

And I am sick of being bored, life is for living, not shuffling towards the grave, keeping everybody happy. Nah fuck that, from here on in, I aint gonna care, I am going to live.