See No Evil, Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil

Finally… a night out!  Allie had suggested a place called Scruffy Murphy’s for a Tuesday night, but we also heard from our local front desk fern Omar (that two single girls in the group were constantly flirting with) that Three Monkeys was close and the place to go.  And so, we went.  Only one member of the group stayed behind.  The moment we walked in—two guys and nine girls—the women got absolutely swarmed with free drinks IMMEDIATELY.  It was impressive.  It also instantly revealed the absolute aggressiveness of Australian men that has continued through the trip thus far (I am in the Sydney airport waiting for our flight to Cairnes as I write this).  We eventually all congregated on the second floor, while Chris and I completely people watched.  I’ve heard it said many times, many different ways: Australians have a weird style of dancing.  But there is no explaining it until you actually see it.  Not quite in full rave mode, they do dance with some small pod shield surrounding them, hopping in place a bit and cocking and angling their joints in frantic, quick positions.  Like “the robot” on a sugar high.  The saving grace was a band (the house band?) that played American music.  During their set, they even called out to ask for all the Georgia girls to shout out.  To paraphrase Greer, “You know that they’ve made a splash when the band is calling them out in the entire bar.”  I did get out and move to the beat a bit, but I honestly didn’t know where to begin with any moves.