"At least now that I'm (nearly) in my thirties, I can hold my drink"

(Dot, Brett, Steph and me)


Said I before I fell down the two steps leading out of a nightclub, rolling my ankle!

I tried to blame the stilletto heels, convinced that the right one had been 'put on wonky'. When I got home, I even woke Dave's mate Mick to show him (Dave had a barbebeque for his mates whilst I swanned off into Perth). Alas, on further inspection, it proved that the stilletto was not wonky, my foot was!

And so my Saturday night out on the tiles came to an end.

It had started out sedately enough. Myself, Dot and Steph were off to taste the delights of the Hula Bula bar and the bars of Northbridge (a very dodgy shanty town/clubbing area of Perth situated behind the skyscrapers of the city).

The Hula Bula bar promised me visions of Hawaii from the era of the King of Rock and Roll. What we got was someones living room adorned with a dashboard hula girl!

Hmm, we didn't stay.

Onto Northbridge. To say I was excited about going to Northbridge is an understatement. I was having to try and stop myself from jumping up and down clapping my hands in the manner of a small child faced with a balloon animal.

Northbridge is the place where people go to get stabbed of a Saturday night. How retro? It is the only place in Perth where dirt and litter can reside without fear of being swept up and scrubbed clean (the rest of Perth is picture perfect at all times!). This is where the mafia live (probably...if we have a mafia. I'm not up to date on matters of the criminal underworld) and where most of the unprovoked killings happen.

And I was going to bathe in it's dingy glamour!

We stumbled upon the Mustang Bar. It wasn't hard as the live swing band were loud enough to hear from three streets away. We quickly made our way to the bar and that's where things start to get a little hazy...

Order of drinks: emu bitter (pint of), jagermeister shot x2 followed by red bull chasers (jagermeister is an alcoholic herbal spirit. A bit like cough medicine but much much nicer), slippery nipple (sambuca and baileys), midi of swan draught, margarita, midi of emu bitter and thereafter I have no idea! This is not a bad effort for someone who had promised herself to drink only gin and tonics the whole night so as to behave herself (I'm not nearly so wild when I stick to gin!?).

The band morphed from swing into Nirvana-esque in just over an hour. So there was much dancing, flirting, piccy taking and being told off by management for not wearing my shoes!

I had a wonderful night! And my poor ankle this morning? Swollen like a fat birds. I also can't feel my third and fourth toes. Do you think this is bad?

Oh, well it's not as if I use them at all!