Australia

It was a Friday night, I'm pretty sure. The evening had been calm : the usual stuff, shopping, chatting with friends, not doing much. I felt a bit edgy and nervous. Alone but not lonely. A lot of avies running around, if I remember well, or maybe it was my state of mind at that time. Some newbies appeared to be having nervous breakdowns arriving in a universe which always seems, especially in the beginning, like a unlimited playground without rules and bounderies. The 'verse is a vast and hectic place, changing all the time, never standing still.

So on that Friday, in January 2008, in urgent need of wanting to dance to good music, my typist, always eager to please me, searched for a new place to explore. This is how and why I arrived in the courtyard of what appeared to be a saloon.

First impressions are important. In this case, I had the distinct feeling of arriving in Australia. I have no idea why. The feel of the place, I guess. Something in the air. I entered the building and was immediatly blasted by the energy and loudness of the music. Was it Marilyn Mansion? Nitzer Ebb? Sisters of Mercy? I don't recall. But the DJ had apparently decided that decibels were not to be spared on that evening.

The place wasn't crowded. It was early in the evening. I remembered seeing a few people hanging around. Three of them caught my eye. As I stepped in, the man being the bar called on me: "Hello, Miss Koba. Welcome to the friendliest bar in the' verse!" I smiled a bit shyly, and muttered; "Thank you, Mr...Mr. Barnes." He seemed like the owner or maybe he told me he was after I started to sip the glass of Bordeaux wine which he had handed me.

And then the DJ...I couldn't have missed him even if I was blind. A blue-skinned humanoid, with dark hair, and beautiful wings, who was leaning on the door of a pick-up truck located in the bar...yes, in the bar. His truck, he told me, much later on. The name of the DJ is also quite the number: Cholgosh Swindelhurst. Nobody in his right mind can't forget such a name.

The third person was on the stage in silks, her dark long hair flowing, her body moving to the rythym. Her name is Shaylin, and I immediatly took a liking to her. She was beautiful.

I surveyed rapidly the place, scratching my head before the bathtub on the side...."Kinky stuff in Australian bars?" Not wanting to look like a total nerd, I took note of the towels and there cleanliness: this bath is not a prop, someone takes their baths here.

"So Mr. Barnes, we are in Australia?" I asked. To my total dismay, from behind the bar, I heard him breathe deeply and answer slowly "No, Miss Koba...this is Texas...Texas, Miss Koba."

I wanted to disintegrate right there. The DJ chuckled as I turned crimson red. I walked to the dance floor and started to dance.

My typist cracked up.