Now arriving at Aspendale

Aspendale.

I was at it again. Day four of my bender. If it weren’t for my one dry day last Wednesday I would’ve now been hitting the piss for a whole week straight. Meeting up with a friend I haven’t seen for a while, we headed down the familiar side alley to our usual haunt. I knew I was tired but as I sucked down my third old fashioned I didn’t seem to be concerned about how early I had to be at work the next day.
We made the sensible descision to kick on after the bar closed sometime around 3am. Being a Sunday night and sufficiently smashed, options were limited and we ended up at one of those glamoureious Pokie venues that are open 24/7  buying pints of who the fuck remembers what.
By the time we called it a night at stumbled out of the joint we notice a tram go sailing by as a cheeky indicator of how late we’d stayed out. I remember Candice getting in a taxi. I remembering buying a newspaper and getting on a train. I remember reading a few articles before throwing it over my shoulder in disgust of the average display of journalism in my drunken opinion.
Then I woke up.
Fuck. Peeled my eyes open; “Mordiallic Station” the LED sign read.
Fuck. “Is this train going to the city!?” I yelled out to whoever wanted to hear it.
“Nah mate! Its going to Frankston!” a kind stranger yelled in reply.
“FUCK” this time out loud.
I flew to the door and unsuccessfully pulled at the door with whatever ferocity I could muster. Then stood their looking and feeling like an idiot for however long it takes to go further away from the city to Aspendale. Off the train I get, around to the other side of the platform I go and there I wait. It must have been quite the sight for all the 9 to fivers: me standing there in my ridiculously purple, fern leaf coloured shirt, reeking of booze and ciggies on a Monday about to hop on the 6:46 train to the city.
I could barely see straight and didn’t even notice the judgemental looks being shot in my direction until I made eye contact with a  blonde haired young man sitting on the other side of the train amongst the suits. I could tell by the cheeky look in his eyes that he knew exactly what I’d done from his own experience.
I walked in the door at 7:30 and collapsed onto the bed. My clothes were still on, the sun and my housemates were up, I had an hour and a half to be up for work.

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2 thoughts on “Now arriving at Aspendale”

  1. You’re a hilarious mess, and so perfectly summed up that sheepish feeling of the trek home when everyone else is bright-eyed and on their way to work (oh, I kind of miss it).. I’m so glad Miss T.Strange reminded me to follow yr blog, I’m looking forward to reading more of yr adventures! xx BF

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