Number 1- The Beginning
As a 14 year old boy living in the suburbs of the Sutherland Shire and attending year 9 at St Patrick's College the last thing on my mind was babes and any subsequent babe related activities. You see i was not one of these early bloomers that we hear of so frequently now days. Rather than attending social events where females and males awkwardly mingled like Milo and milk before they are stirred, i used to enjoy catching the 5.36 Am train to Cronulla each morning, this was before i knew what swell and wind charts were and turned up each morning with nothing but a fools hope, shralping some Cronulla point, eating a pie and bragging about how man ARS's i had landed on the way home. If i wasn't surfing, playing backyard cricket or pulling on the green and white of the mighty Como Mo's i was still indulging in other juvenile hijinks that meant girls never really entered my mind as more than an abstract concept of something that i knew i desired but i was still really unsure as to how this desire should be expressed. Even when i did attend parties i abstained from alcohol cos thats what Ryan Hardy did and barely even spoke to girls, as i preferred to waste my speech making claims like "nar dude I'd Rather be surfing".
This all changed with the same abrupt nature as a Japanese bullet train coming straight off the tracks, the day when a certain little girl moved to my school from the Sunshine coast, and began living at her fathers place of residence that happened to be about 200 meters down the street from my own home. For the sake of anonymity i shall refer to this young lady as N. I remember the day so vividly that I'm not sure if the memory i have is entirely accurate or if it has been slightly distorted by scenes from Hollywood films where boy meets girl for the first time. I was skating down the street towards a mates house on a pleasantly warm afternoon on the last day before the resumption of school after the Easter holidays. I was wearing my Rejected board shorts down low, as was the fashion of the time, showing ample amounts of my silk boxer shorts which were also in vogue amongst my particular demographic. I had nothing in the way of a shirt, as i had picked up a couple of small grazes on my shoulder from surfing some lame little reef and were wearing them as some sort of badges of honour that i was hoping would be a clear reflection of how hard i had been charging that day. As i approached a small incline in our street i was cruising nonchalantly when out of the road i saw two golden haired females in the small gap in the trees. I would hardly have noticed them, but the afternoon light struck there hair and acted as a beacon to my hormones. On closer inspection i realized these two young babes were in fact perched up in a Billy Cart and as they attempted to duck out of my line of sight, to avert any further embarrassment, i noticed one of them was in fact from my school from my school. Once again i will loosely veil her identity by calling her E. I giggled to myself and continued on to my mates house thinking nothing more of it.
The next day at school rumours were reverberating off every wall about the arrival of some new babe from Queensland who was not only reasonably attractive, but also had a bit of experience with boys. Instantly i knew it must have been Billy Cart Babe and began giving my own account of my brush with the exotic fruit that was a new girl at a conservative catholic schools where 90% of the girls had not so much as smooched a boy on the lips at this age. As luck would have it, since these girls ran in similar circles to myself, were best friends and spent much of their time at a house down the street i began spending a large amount of time with them. This is when i first encountered the attention seeking games that girls play, including late night phone calls, pebbles tapping on my window and coming home to them having a cup of tea with my mum, giggling about how cute my baby photos were.
Eventually, as fate would inevitably have it, i developed a crush on E, the one who had been at my school all along. She was a sweet, benevolent girl and we became close, until one night things were getting a little heavy, i think we may have even been walking down the street at twilight, hand in hand and this became almost too much for me as i contemplated how to initiate the intimate contact that would lead to my first passionate embrace. At that very moment N, was the victim of some sort of mild teasing at the hand of your humble narrator and went off sulking into the darkness and behind a tree. At the will of E i followed after her with and apology springing from my untainted lips. However the apology never was born into this worlds, for when i navigated the circumfrance of the tree without warning N took me into her arms and without warning kissed me on the mouth. After about 10 seconds i stood in a shocked silence studying her face for any hint of remorse or joy, neither of which betrayed her stone faced demand that i never, under any circumstances told E. So with my first kiss also came my introduction to the glory of the love triangle.
Rattled by this twist of fate i no longer had the confidence or desire to continue my stunted attempt at courting and retired home. The next day i received a call from E and we were chatting along nicely, as i was attempting to suppress the guilt i felt with reasonable success. What was to follow seems almost too perfectly scripted, but E soon gave the phone to N and left the room. N then proceeded to tell me that E had a crush on me, but she also had the same feelings and that i would have to choose, though should never tell E about the kiss, at that moment i heard a gasp on the line, and it became apparent that E had been listening on another phone all along, the next thing i heard were tears, names being screamed, before the line went dead. For the next week, being totally unfamiliar to such a situation i had a minimum of sleep and spent my waking hours considering these events, that as recently as days earlier would have seemed only possible in the realm of day time TV. Given these circumstances and the subsequent feelings of guilt, regret and betrayal i felt over the coming weeks i should have really given up on babes then and there.
Number 2- Newy Babes
My first ever real girlfriend after school was named Rachael and she was from Newcastle. As the result of the romantic endevours that i underwent on Summer Holidays at Scott's Head and a range of mutual friendships we embarked on a 10 month or so long distance relationship, where the train line between Thirroul and Fassifern, a lake side suburb in southern Newcastle, became one of my greatest allies and biggest foes. During this time we were together long enough to profess our undying love for one another, make plans of one or the other moving to be with each other when she finished School and for her to make claims that i was the boy she wanted to marry. As these things inevitably seem to do, it all came to an end after a significant amount of time a part that came straight after our longest time ever spent together without a break, about a month without a single waking moment apart. She rang me and relayed me the news that she needed a break and some time to think. Naively i took this as simply as a sign that she missed me and i should work hard to show her i loved her. A series or romantic letters, emails and phone calls ensued, while she continued to tell me she needed more time to think about it, all this within the space of 72 hours.
On the eve of the third day, i had plans to go help celebrate the birthday of one of the friends who i had met during my time in Newcastle. Luckily they were hardly what you would call friends and as a result i thought i could have a relatively drama free night with some mates without thinking about her. It started off like a dream, with pre drinks flowing, jovial songs teasing and chants on the 25 minute bus ride into town and a mass urination on a public wall on arrival to our destination. The club was pumping and there was a dude and chick line which allowed you to scope the amount of babes and it seemed to be plentiful. However as i was handing my ID to the bouncer, who happened to be entering the club in the chicks line? None other than Rachael of course. During the course of the next ten minutes we had some sweet blow ups, revolving around what i was doing there and how i didnt need to ask her permission to live my life. The night descended from there as at around 1AM i saw her hanging with a babe and accosted her about his gross appearance/attitude and her disrespect for me, only to see her making out with him on the D floor minutes later. They became an item soon after and as far as i know have been ever since. In my cold blooded search for revenge, i went in search of any babe, and i mean any. I found little cause for catharsis in the arms of some very average newy cheeck, and at about 3 as we were waiting for a cab home i burst into tears as we were making out and she reneged on her invitation to take me home for the night. So began a six month neg spiral where i spent countless hours at Glass house on a Wednesday, Friday and Saturday, with a north Gong sesh on sunday, while i spent the remainder of my time attempting to beguile poor little girls on myspace. Even months later we would exchange late night calls that would begin as friendly chats and would descend into massive negesh's as we brought up each others current babe situation and what went wrong with us. To this very day when i drive down certain roads in Newy i am still overcome with a sense of nostalgia and loss that can only be linked to your first ever Love./div>
3- You Will Be Sorry When i Get the Police Involved
In my formative years i spent every summer holidays for about 8 years, and plenty of other journeys in between, at the Mid North Coast town of Scott's Head. From the age of about 13 my cousin Nick and i used to fang around the beach and shops in the day and the Caravan Park, affectionately known as the Cav, at night in search of some babes to speak to. During the first trip or two we would have to organize and impromptu rock off to see who would first approach a group of roaming female youths, but as our confidence grew with our bodies and egos we soon found that holiday romances were not all that hard to come by. By the time we were reaching our final school years we went on one particular month long trip, where we uncovered a tried and tested formula that never seemed to fail. Meet some girls during the day, invite them back for a drink/lunch and tune the CD player to the sounds of the fabled love mix. Invite them over for a barbados/drinks/hang later that night or an upcoming night, let everyone get off their tits on happiness and enjoy. During one such day in our lives we met a couple of young ladies with freshly pierced tongues who were buying several ice blocks in an attempt to minimize the swelling they were encountering in their mouths. Naturally being the kind natured fellas we are we invited them back to our pad for some ice for their tongues and treated them to a sesh with the Love Mix. Later that night they drove back out from one of the neighbouring towns, which if you know the North coast can be up to an hour away. During the day the girl had told us they had to go home and tell their parents, because they were 17 and therefore were not able to just galavant around the coast, but would be allowed to cruise in Scott's for the night. After a night of the previously mentioned activities i was snuggled up down stairs with one of the ladies when i heard a loud banging at the door. As i was in the downstairs room that was directly entered into via the front door i yelled for the to go away cos i was tired and hung over. The incessant knocking at the door only grew louder, so i left the little babe scantily clad in the bed and wrapped the sheet around my naked body to answer the door. The site at the door was one to behold and would have been so absurd if it wasn't happening to me. What greeted me as i turned the knob and swung the wooden barrier to the outside world was a middle aged man, red in the face, spitting little white flecks of saliva all over my fledgling fringe. Heres a rough exerpt of the conversation that ensued.
Me- Hey dude, what are you after?
Dad of Doom- What am i after, ill tell you what i'm after, my daughters, in here. (Looks over at her and calls her name) Get here now.
Me- Oh thats your daughter....um hi nice to meet you.
DOD- I'll tell you whats nice mate, nice is calling her all night, her no answering, us being worried sick and driving around all night looking for her.
Me- Woah, i didn't know, that sucks.
DOD- Sucks, ill give you sucks mate, we only found her because because we knew she was in thsi town and we finally found the car parked out the front. (Girl scrambling to get changed then brushes by through the door out to the car)
DOD- and whats more mate, she's only 15, do you think thats the way a 15 year old should act
Me- Woah, umm, sorry mate i had absolutely no idea what was going on, she said she was 17.
DOD- Mate you will be sorry when i get the cops involved.
Me- umm fuck i'm out of here (walk up stairs.)
For the next 2 weeks of my stay each and every time i heard a car rock up to our house or even drive slowly up the street i was losing my mind, negging that the dad, or even worse the police, would be rocking up to seal my fate and ruin my life before it had even started. With the sound of each engine roaring outside our house i felt like i would be physically ill.
This song was on Tension 7 and it was the DVD of choice at the time, i spent a whole lot of time siting, listening and negging to this tune during that period
Good read man. Reverse nostalgia at it's finest.
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