Muster Times #20

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Notes of a Teenage Gluesniffer

Shyest Boy goes to Matt Ryan. Sigh. All eyes on me as I have to walk and accept a piece of paper. My fellow classmates have voted me the kid that says fuck all. As I walk I see all these blokes that say less than me. I guess I was more recognised, you know the kid that says fuck all everyone sees. I go to climb the stairs and say fuck it and just reach my hand and they give me the award. Some guy thought it was brilliant I’m so shy I can’t even except the award on stage. I feel like I should say thanks and smile yet I’m so fucking feed up with this school I just want out. I’m wearing a Celtic shirt while my fellow classmates round me are in formal gear. I never understood why girls would spend lots of money on a dress there only going to wear once. And I never wear a shirt I would never wear to the pub. When a bloke in my legal class sees me he takes off his formal shirt and shows his t shirts which has an Aussie flag and says support it or fuck off. Shirts like this is my I never understood nationalism. He wants to fight and berate people for not recognizing a rectangle with stars, well good for him.

At me school formal waiting for it to end so I can get ready for cricket the next morning.  I get a slap on the back and am told where going to Kyles house. That kid? The one that always wears a Korn shirt every causal dress day? Even when they were big when I was 10 I thought they sucked. Alright lets get there. Horse girl walks past me and says nothing. We make a brief walk from the Chelsea RSL to Kyles brothers pad. He was always a harmless kid that never meant any harm yet never fitted in with any group. Like me he was a natural outsider. Luckily for me I knew football. I could talk football all day and because of that I could talk to the cool kids. Not that I wanted to but better talk to them then have them pick on me which is what I think poor Kyle endured. He was never a target yet was always known he was an outsider and didn’t belong which I thought was even cruller. I was kind of the same, not so much like I wasn’t welcome, but it was clear with my group of friends we were different. We had football in common. That’s it. They would talk something that happened on the telly last night I would talk whatever book I was reading. Without football there would be non conversation. So here we were in Kyles pad me and five others. We were furious with him when we found out he was 18 in year 11. He could have brought us beer no hassle. I didn’t stop us of course but still. Kyles brother grunts something, hello at us I think. I can tell their not used to visitors. One mate pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels, it’s clear it’s gonna be a messy night. Kyle goes to get a glass but it’s been told a glass is not needed. Kyle takes the bottle and takes a glug then they all run to the back of the house.

I go to the living room and see Kyles brother’s girlfriend. In those days she is what young people would call an emo. She’s playing X Box and chit chat is not on her radar. Some music is blasting out some random gibberish. I ask what music this is. Disturbed is the answer I get. I say ok but what’s the name of the band. Disturbed he says and looks at me like it’s the Beatles an I’m a fucking idiot for not knowing who this is. I looked him in the eye and said something I’ve never said to another person since. Got any Chisel? Get me out of here I think to myself. Times like this I wish I had a bottle of PVA glue on me, like I used to carry round when I was 15. I hear laughter in the back and see whatthe ruckus is all ‘bout. Kyles throwing up in his shower after drinking half a bottle of Jack. We’ve been here 30 minutes. My first reaction was thanks for shearing you cunts. Poor fella. The emo girlfriend that says less than the bloke that just won shyest boy is better company then this. I just sit there watching her play X Box. Aside from pinball I’ve never been big on Video games, and watching someone play them is even less thrilling. Kyle comes out stumbling. He asks what he should do. I think he needs to get away from these fucking idiots and start fresh. Tell him school is finished and he should find his own feet and be your own person. I should have said that. Instead I think I told him to have a nap. The lady playing X Box eventually turns to me and says he never was able to hold his booze down. She says something else. Wanna beer? Is the pope catholic? She comes back with a Vic. She continues to play but makes the odd comment like how did you find school what are you up to next, did Shawn screw Bret? The big questions in life. Ned comes out and asks if I wanna come and draw on Kyles face. I politely declined He looked at me like Jack Thompson in Wake in Fright. What kind of man would talk to a women then drink with his mates. It was a nice chat and even recommended a few books. I get the feeling she would have been voted shyest girl when she was in school. I was anything buy shy that night, with the right person I was able to talk my head off. Was a nice natter.

Eventually it turns midnight and the brother is pissed and literally has us running outta the house. The others go one way to their homes in Chelsea. I go home to Dingley. They urge me to go with em but I get out of it by saying my dogs on fire. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to his girlfriend. I walk home after 15 minutes I realize this could have been a mistake. A car goes by I put my hand up to bum a ride. They drive on. A ute drives past and the hand goes up. It stops. Wanna ride mate? Shit yeah I say. It takes a second for me to realize it’s Greenie a bloke that dropped out in year 10. He lifts up the back of the ute and I find two girls lying in the back. I’m in the middle of em. I remember none of the conversation or where the girls where going. Ten minutes later the lid is open and I think Greenie has taken me to the middle of nowhere, but it turns out I’m in the middle of the estate I live in. I run inside I and grab an LCM and give it to Greenie and wish him well.

I enter my room. A near deck of fags is under my bed and no more high school from now on. I never felt better.

Mick Pacholli

Mick created TAGG - The Alternative Gig Guide in 1979 with Helmut Katterl, the world's first real Street Magazine. He had been involved with his fathers publishing business, Toorak Times and associated publications since 1972.  Mick was also involved in Melbourne's music scene for a number of years opening venues, discovering and managing bands and providing information and support for the industry. Mick has also created a number of local festivals and is involved in not for profit and supporting local charities.        

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