Читать книгу The Friday Night Debrief - Kylie Jane Asmus - Страница 5
ОглавлениеNew Beginnings
Fifty dollars and one hour later Kylie had plenty to think about.
It was the first time in her life she had visited a Tarot Card Reader. The opportunity arose after chatting to a co-worker who had regular readings from a lady who travelled through town from Darwin every twelve months. Kylie was open to the experience and inquisitive as to what she might find out about herself. She didn’t see herself heading in any particular direction and wondered if this person may be able to offer some insight into a possible pathway through the journey of her little life. Kylie’s father always sweetly referred to her “little life” when he tried to console her during conversations of sadness and wonder. He was always able to explain away different circumstances so that she could see her way through them and help her realise that it wasn’t the end of the world and that she would get through it. “It’s just another day in your little life, A Baby,” he would say reassuringly. Even at age 18, or 23 or 27, Kylie was still regarded as the baby of their family, hence his name for her ‘A Baby’, a name which had stuck.
Kylie couldn’t stop thinking about the tarot card reader’s words. Not one to take things too seriously but open enough to jot the words down for future reflection, Kylie took out her little notebook that she carried in her handbag to record funny things that would happen to her. She scribed the date and the following words:
“Your life is about to undergo a huge change. I see water, all around you, you are so close to it; working near it, around it, above it. There is so much water. I see a man, like an X-ray picture, light eyes and dark hair. You have met him long ago, in a past life. He is an old soul, like you. I’m excited for you Kylie, a new chapter in your life is about to commence.”
Kylie put down the pen, rested her right hand on the notepad and sat back in the driver’s seat. She looked at her reflection in the rear vision mirror and said out loud to herself, “Cool! Looks like I’m getting a job as a water treatment plant operator out at Lake Moondarra.”
Lake Moondarra was the local dam, recreational lake and water supply for the city of Mount Isa where Kylie was born, raised and had lived all of her life. To Kylie, Lake Moondarra was the more likely place where she could secure a job as compared to any of the other large water masses in the surrounding district. Rifle Creek Dam was operated by Mount Isa Mines but she had never had any luck getting an interview with them, and Lake Julius and Corella Dam had very little infrastructure surrounding them, let alone positions vacant. In closed-minded Kylie land, Lake Moondarra was it. She had three years administration experience in Mining in the local region and had enjoyed her temporary positions at various mine sites but had never found a site or a job she loved enough to stay at, which always led her back to her safety net job at the Post Office.
“I might go and buy the paper!” Kylie said to herself as she started the car. She headed to McCarthy’s Newsagent which was located in the centre of town in West Street Mount Isa and to this day in Kylie’s well-travelled opinion, remains the best newsagent in Australia. Dead-set! It opens early and stays open until late, yes late, until the wee hours of the morning, and has an operational floor space bigger than a McDonalds Restaurant. McCarthy’s is always lit up like Christmas and stocks any magazine or paper you would want. Kylie had never found a comparative newsagent that offered a pinch of the stock or had such complimentary trading hours in any other location in Australia. She was, by no means a floozy but she did get around. On holidays that is. Shopping holidays!
After doing an obligatory lap of West Street, as any local who has five minutes up their sleeve would do, Kylie parked her car and wandered into McCarthy’s. The North West Star took pride of place next to the triple sized larger readership newspapers like the Townsville Bulletin, The Courier Mail and The Australian. As Kylie picked up the newspaper she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around expecting to know the tapper, as McCarthy’s was like grand central station for running into people you knew. She was pleasantly surprised to find it was a friend from out of town. Sophia lived in the nearby town of Cloncurry and they had met each other through their boyfriends’ circle of friends. As pretty as country music singer Faith Hill and even more beautiful on the inside, Sophia was gentle natured and a real sweetheart.
“Hey stranger,” said Sophia.
“Hey, who’s that recognising my bumsicle before my face?”
“It’s Sophia you dag, and I saw your car so I thought it might be you.”
“What, now you’re saying my bum is the size of my car? Baby, that’s just mean!”
“Nooo, nooo. Stop it!” said Sophia blushing and trying to gather her thoughts as Kylie baffled her with childish behaviour. She gave Kylie a gentle punch, more like a weak tap. Yes, Sophia hit like a girl. It was awkward but cute and very Sophia. She asked, “How are you, what’s been happening, what are you doing?”
It was a country conundrum. Some country folk only ever seemed to talk about the weather, while others fired off questions three at a time, excited to be in the presence of another human being. There isn’t a lot of opportunity for eyeball to eyeball conversational contact when you live on a property out west and even phone calls were few and far between because you worked long and tiring hours.
“Whoa there little lassie, ease up on the interrogationing! Good. Not much. And I’m looking for work via these massive examples of printed media,” Kylie replied and wiggled her thin and limp edition of the North West Star.
“You know that’s only full on Wednesdays when they have the social lift out. By the way, have you been in the paper lately you media flirt?”
“Nooooo. I have NOT recently been a Tabloid Tart. Sophia Diarrhoea! But keep your eyes peeled for next Tuesday’s edition because we had an advertising feature at work, and I may have possibly made sure that I was in every shot taken. So, I stand a good chance at turning up in black and white next time you skim through the pages.”
“You can’t be trusted!” Sophia gave Kylie another lady punch but missed her arm and had to turn a full 360 degrees from the physical exertion. She gathered herself and continued, “Oh good, at least I’ll get to see you when I’m not looking at you.” She giggled. Sophia was cute with words and would mix them up a little more than most. It always made sense to Kylie but that’s only because Kylie was a little mixed up herself.
Sophia continued with her questions, “So, what do you mean you are looking for work, I thought you were working at the Post Office?”
“Yeah, but they won’t make me permanent, even though I’m working permanent hours and have been there on and off permanently, like, for-ever. And I just had my cards read by this lady...”
Sophia gasped in excitement. “Tell me what she said! Tell me what she said!”
Pulling out her little notebook, Kylie quoted the Tarot Card Reader word for word.
Sophia started jumping up and down on the spot. “What do you think it means? Where is there heaps of water?” She turned around as if to check out the Leichhardt River, which she obviously couldn’t see from inside the newsagency. “I don’t think we’ve had enough rain to close the little or big bridge? But maybe you might get a job at the Velodrome and it would be surrounded by water while the river is in full flood!”
Mount Isa had bestowed proper names for the two major bridges that linked the mine to the city, the Isa Street Bridge and the Grace Street Bridge, but the locals found it easier to call them the little and big bridge. Even the shorter term for venturing up to the main set of shops in the middle of town was converted to going ‘Up Town’ by Kylie and her friends and pretty much everyone else in town.
‘Up Town’ was a weekly Saturday morning event for teenagers. Those who were too young to go out and be hung over from legally boozing and boogying at the only regular dance venues in town, known as night clubs, and too old to stay at home and play with dolls, would instead frock up in some of the bravest outfits ever to be created from over exposure to Dolly magazine, teen idols and budget makeovers. As a youngster Kylie and her girlfriends would ring each other on a Friday night, planning ahead for Saturday’s extended trading hours, that is, shops that opened on a Saturday, from 8:00 am until 12:00 pm.
“What are you doing this Saturday?” teenage Kylie would ask into the phone as she twiddled her hair with her free hand, despite knowing the answer would be exactly the same as last weekend.
“I’m going Up Town,” her best friend Anastasia would answer.
“Ooooh, can I come Up Town with you?” Kylie would ask.
“I dunno, can you come Up Town with me?” Anastasia would reply.
Then Kylie would put down the phone so she could scream from the lounge room to the kitchen, because this was BC, Before Cordless-phones... “Mum can I go Up Town tomorrow with Anastasia?”
“Only if your piano practises are up to date,” her mum would answer.
Kylie’s head would drop in sadness, and she would pick up the phone and ask, “Oh man, did you hear that?”
“Yep, how far are you behind with your practices?”
“Only one day but the thirty minutes I don’t do on the day I should, doubles, so I’m one hour behind at this point in time and have two more thirty-minute sessions before I can leave the house on Saturday...that’s two hours of scales and Mozart torture before I am allowed Bach Up Town. I’m so Straussed out just thinking about it. Maybe you should just Johann enjoy yourselves without me.”
“Hey that was funny.”
“Wow, I didn’t think you’d get it, since your mum doesn’t punish you musically until your fingers bleed before you can hang out with your mates.”
“Yeah, remember we are studying the baroque era in Music this term.”
“Oh I’m baroque. I’m so poor I’ve gotta shop at the Salvo’s for new wardrobe items.”
“Well speaking of which, the good news is, that those long elbow length doily-like, 80s gloves you picked up from the Salvo’s last week are back in fashion! Coz I saw Madonna sporting some cute-as fingerless lace gloves in this week’s Dolly magazine. So you could totally trim those puppies up and cover your piano cuts and look trendy-as when you join us on Saturday from 8.30 am.”
“Wow, I’m onto that! Those gloves are about to be digitless. But me thinks 8.30 am is a wee bit early for this little snoozer so I think I’ll be there by like, 9 am. Where will I find you?” Kylie had to ask, because let’s be clear, this was BC – Before Cellular Coverage and Before Cyberspace. That’s no mobile phones, satellite phones, internet, wi-fi, eftpos, or navigational devices, other than the humble Easy Find street map in the local Mount Isa phonebook. These were the days BI, yes, Before iPods existed, or even CDs, and when cassette walkmans weighed as much as a handbag. Obviously, one actually had to leave home to shop, and needed to look at more than one person’s face in the flesh if they wanted to interact with a group of people. It was really personal back then. Back then, Kylie thought it was posh to own a phone that you didn’t have to watch the dial count back anti-clockwise to zero after you had spun the rotating clockwise face around. The phone at Kylie’s house was definitely not cordless but, given that the cord attaching the phone to the wall was fifteen metres long, it was long enough that she could take the phone to her dad no matter where he was in the house. The phone jack was in the lounge room at the front of the house but the cord allowed the phone to reach her dad: in the kitchen, in her parent’s bedroom, out in the back yard or worse ever, in the toilet. Talk about speaking shit. No one wanted to use the phone after that call. That was until you thought it might be your friend on the other end, inviting you anywhere but piano practise land, where you currently felt entombed.
“Come on Kylie, you know it won’t be hard to find us, it’s only Up Town. It’s like, six blocks! Do a lap, we’ll be easily recognisable.”
Returning to the present, Kylie refocused on Sophia, who had unintentionally spat as she spoke to Kylie, making them both laugh.
“Say it don’t spray it Soph, I want the news not the weather!” Kylie replied with a lisp.
“I’m so sorry, I just haven’t seen you in a while and I’m excited.”
“Fair enough. You’re only human.” replied Kylie as she wiped her eyes.
“So do you think you will work in the middle of the river, or just live there?” Sophia thought she was funny.
Kylie smiled. “I would consider moving Soph, just not there.”
“Sorry,” Sophia giggled. “Where do you think you might be going?”
“I dunno, years ago a few girls from school got jobs on Hamilton Island as cleaners and stuff and I thought about doing that right up until I realised cleaning means cleaning dunnies and shit.”
“Yeah, cleaning dunnies AND shit, who would have thought those two words would be put in the same sentence, like ever?” Sophia said sarcastically.
“You know what I mean. I’ve got nothing against cleaning, sometimes it’s the only opportunity available to get into a company. Anyway, I have no idea yet. I’ll have to keep you posted. Get it? Posted. I work at the Post Office! Yeah, high five for Kylie!”
Sophia forced out, “Ah-hah! Keep at it, your jokes are getting better!”
“What about this one, I should stay at the Post Office until you get pregnant, so I can deliver your baby! Ba da boom tish,” said Kylie giving an air drum roll.
Sophia replied with, “Aaaah nup”, accompanied by a visual thumbs down dissing her friend’s efforts at stand up comedy.
“The psychic also said something about my one true love being like, an old soul in universal soul terms so I’ve been thinking that... maybe it means that I’m trading up from my dark-eyed, light-haired ex-boyfriend who quite frankly, wasn’t an old soul, he was an arse-ole. I reckon I might be finding a new job and a new man to boot! Yay for Kylie!”
“Well that’s good for you. So, what’s the story with your current buck?” Sophia asked seriously.
“It’s former, not current sweet cheeks. We are no longer unhappy together.”
“OMG, What happened?” asked Sophia. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t ready to chat about it until now. It happened like, a couple of weeks ago. He told me I was getting fat and when I said, spell fat is it like, cool fat like P-H-A-T? And he said, nup.”
“He didn’t!”
“He did. And it wasn’t just that. But I’m okay. I don’t think we were meant to be together anyway. We weren’t on the same wavelength, you know. I don’t want much but I’m tired of him telling me I’m not funny and I’m not this, and I should be that. And he never went to any effort for me. I probably shouldn’t compare it to other people’s relationships but I think I have enough bad experiences from it to know that it shouldn’t be this hard, you know? So we decided to go our separate ways, especially after he told me I was fat and I told him to buck off!”
“Yeah I know what you mean. I know him really well and have always thought he should treat you better. You need to do what is best for you because you deserve to be happy and for a while there you didn’t sound like you were whenever I saw you with him.”
“True dat. Me thinks I need to shake my little life up a bit. Make a few changes, you know, starting with me changing my job, then maybe my undies a little more frequently...you know, baby steps!”
“Grosse! You better be kidding!”
“Of course I’m kidding! No I’m not, you know I’m serious. No really, I’m joking. No, no I’m not. I’m serious. The ones I have on are hitting the 72 hour mark, no I’m kidding really I am.” Kylie looked down and laughed at her feet. She amused herself no end. “What about you sweet cheeks? What brings you this far from home? An unsociable bastage who never liked to commit to taking me anywhere once told me that cows don’t have weekends...since this is true, who’s taking care of business?”
“My brother is home at the moment so he is looking after the place. I’m off to Brisbane tomorrow for a week of shopping.”
“Oh lardy dar! It’s good to be you baby! Hey, would you like a lift to the hairy-port tomorrow? I don’t have much of a life and I’m free all day. Actually I’m free most nights! Just don’t tell everybody!”
“Actually, that would be great because I don’t have a way of getting there yet. Oh I mean I could get a taxi.”
“No way baby, I’ll give you a lift. Where are you staying?”
“At the Burke & Wills, Room 27.”
“Okay. Hey are you free tonight? I’m working for a couple of hours at the Irish Club and then meeting a few friends afterwards, did you want to join us?”
“Actually, I’m having dinner there tonight, how about we meet up afterwards?”
“Sounds excellent Soph.”
“But you can’t have too big of a night, you have to drive me to the airport at 2 pm tomorrow.”
“Yeah no worries, I’ll be good, I’ll meet you in the Blarney Bar at 10.15 pm tonight?”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
“Bye Soph,” said Kylie, waving like the Queen but with her mouth wide open and turning her head left and right like one of those clowns you put ping pong balls into at side show alley. Sophia giggled and shook her head as she walked away.
Kylie also picked up a copy of the Saturday edition of the Townsville Bulletin which was a good source of positions vacant for the surrounding area, before heading to the counter to pay for the papers then made her way back to her car.
All the way home she sang to Shania Twain’s Greatest Hits. On getting out of the car, she was greeted by the ageing but young at heart, ten-foot tall and bullet proof, family dog. Well, he thought he was ten-foot tall and bullet proof. In actual size, he was one foot tall and like a black terrier but bigger than a Scottish Terrier. He had sharp, pointy claws and liked to jump on people who were not fans of dogs. Yes, he liked to jump on Kylie. He wasn’t a mean dog, he was just a dog. And Kylie preferred the company of soft-haired animals that were as independent as she was. She liked cats. Kylie liked cats so much she treated them like humans. In the way that humans wear clothes and get married, so did her cats. So what if they scratched their way out of most of the matching ensembles she carefully selected and dressed them in. But after finding items of cat clothing strewn up and down the street, she got smart with her selections. She quickly discovered all-in-one, baby jim jams. Sewn in feet, sewn in hands, press button closures, you are sew not getting out of that pussycat! Ha! She made sure they were comfortable though, by cutting a little hole in the back for their tail to pop out of. They looked so adorable, even though they would always seem to be hissing at her and making mournful ‘get meeowt of this outfit’ sounds. They would wriggle about like they didn’t want to be there but once their makeover was complete and photos had been taken, you should have seen how happy they were to bolt out of the house. Battlecat and Motor Min would race away, and would be quickly out of Kylie’s sight but she would hear the laughs from the neighbourhood kids who happened to spy either of the fashionable felines as they pranced up the road. They remain the best dressed cats ever to have lived in her street.
“Down damn darlin’ doooog dat Nigel,” Kylie’s dad yelled out from the backyard as he saw Kylie being greeted by their barking and excited pet.
“What are you up to A Baby?” her dad yelled out.
“I just got my cards read Rar-gee. And I bought a couple of papers.”
“Did that there Tar-rot (pronounced Tar-rot and rhyming with Carrot) card reader say you were going to get black ink on your fingers today?” he asked, laughing at his own humour.
“Noooo. She said I was about to start a new chapter.”
“Well then A Baby, you shoulda left the papers and instead, bought a book!”
“Yeah yeah.” He was pretty witty with words old Rogie. Kylie had started calling him by his name after she turned twenty-one. It was more light hearted and playful than calling him Dad. Besides, every time she used to say, “Daaaad?” he would answer with, “How much is it going to cost me A Baby?” In her eyes, she was starting a new habit that didn’t automatically necessitate pecuniary obligations.
Kylie walked down the side of the house and out to the back yard where her father was hosing and sat on a chair with the papers.
He watched her sit down and get comfortable then bellowed, “Get me a beer A Baby.”
“To get you a beer will cost you a beer Rar-gee.”
“Sure A Baby,” he laughed, knowing his son and Kylie’s oldest brother had only stocked up the beer fridge last week so they were both sneaking complimentary beverages.
Kylie handed him a beer in a stubby cooler that said ‘You’re not a real Aussie ’til you’ve been to Mount Isa’. It meant something to their family for a few reasons. All Kylie’s siblings were born and raised and still living there and her Dad had often joked that he would end up being planted at Sunset Lawn, the Mount Isa Cemetery. The stubby cooler was part of a tourism campaign to promote travelling west to Mount Isa to experience the Outback, the Barra fishing, camping and also a working tourist mine called The Hard Times Mine, a volunteer-operated, working underground mine model that gave tourists the opportunity to have the full underground mine tour after Mount Isa Mines ceased public tours at the MIM mine. The Hard Times Mine was a fantastic example of hard work and community passion and a tribute to the town’s lifeblood of over ninety years.
Her dad took the beer and said, “Thanks Baby, now what else did the Tar-rot lady tell you?”
“Rargee, I wrote it down. Let me tell it to you word for word, to be sure to be sure.”
“Wrote it down? Ha. Didn’t want to forget it A Baby?”
“Nope. Thought I might look back on it one day when I’m old and shit, like you are now.”
“Easy.” He stared back at her with a stern face trying to be serious. “I may be old but I’m not shit. I am da shit! Ain’t that right dat Nigel?” he said and pointed the hose at the dog that was rubbing his undercarriage on the lawn, getting grassily aroused in his own dry, testicle-less little world. When the stream of water hit him, he sprung up on all fours with a quick bark as if he was a guard dog on duty and someone had just walked past the fence. Roger laughed his high pitched laugh in response.
Kylie sipped her beer and, with her father’s full attention, read out the card reader’s words.
“A Baby might have to leave town to find so much water, this place is a desert!’
“Yeah, I was thinking that, or maybe get a job at the dam?”
Roger turned on his serious voice, “No love. The water treatment plant part of the dam has been owned and operated by the same family for 35 years. You won’t get a job there. It’s like a caretaker set up. And you live here for free so why would you move?”
“True dat! Free living and free beer Rargee!”
Roger laughed, “These are The Face’s beers you know.”
The Face was Kylie’s name for her eldest brother as he had a unique talent for giving face, for example, he could pull a ‘who just farted face’ even when no one had expulsed a love puff or let fluffy off the chain. He could laugh, then cry, then become serious within seconds if a story he was telling required it. Kylie thought the only people that had good face were entertainers but both her Dad and she found him very comical.
“Cheers to getting off our face, compliments of De Face!” Kylie proposed with her beer in the air.
“Cheers to that,” Dad replied.
“So what are the papers for A Baby?”
“I’m looking in the job sections. To see what I can see.”
“Geez, you’re taking a lot of direction from this card lady. How much did she charge ya?”
“Fifty bucks.”
“Fifty bucks! Crikey! I coulda told you all that shit for free baby, then you could have bought two cartons of beer instead.”
“Yeah, and put them in the bar fridge so every bastage could pilfer them,” Kylie replied.
“Yeah, like we are,” her dad said with a laugh.
‘Yeah, like we are, I’m not that silly Rargee.”
“No, A Baby, you’re the smart one! Now get me another one please so I can wet my whistle just like how I wet that damn darling dawg Nigel before,” he said raising both eyebrows to Kylie then laughing his signatory laugh to himself.
“What are you doing tonight A Baby?”
“I am working from 5 to 10 pm and then, I am changing my outfit, touching up my war paint and catching up with Sophia from
Cloncurry.”
“Sophia? Have I met her?”
“Ah, no. You would remember meeting Sophia, Rargee. She’s the hottest little biscuit I know.”
“Hotter than you A Baby?”
“Shit yeah, next to her I look like a hairy armpit.”
Her dad burst out laughing. “Oh baby, don’t sweat it, you’re lovely.”
“Mmmm, spoken like a true jaded father who has to endorse his own kid’s attract–ability,” she replied sarcastically.
Kylie’s dad walked over to the washing line and picked up the long-handled tongs and started picking up dried dog turds from around the yard and putting them into a plastic bag. He chatted to himself in his character voice, “Dried, yep, fried, yep, shale yep, stale yep, all of the dags, into the bag, pick up the stools from your pet, whoa, hang on, this one’s still wet!” He turned to Nigel the dog and while pointing at the fresh and glistening brown mess on the lawn yelled, “This one’s still wet Nigel. It’s still got steam drifting off it ’cause you only just laid it, fresh for me to step into, damn darling dawg.” Nigel’s ears and chin pricked up as he looked at Kylie’s dad. When he saw the brown-tipped tongs pointing at the steamy heapy he had just disowned, he looked down and put his paws over his eyes, figuring if he couldn’t see nobody then nobody could see him and perhaps he could just get on with his life.
As her dad muttered about the messages the mutt had left him around the lawn, Kylie casually flipped through the Townsville Bulletin and continued to laugh and talk with her father. During any silence from chatter while he was out of earshot as he shifted hoses around the yard and moved beer bottles into the garbage bin, she would scan the employment pages a little closer from the top left column down to the bottom of the page and back up to the top again. Her whole head would move to follow the page as if she was painting a squiggle using an imaginary brush on her nose. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for but she had an intensity of wanting to find something, something that stood out and grabbed her attention. Suddenly, something caught her eye. In the middle of the paper was a large advertisement, a quarter of the page in size, with the proudest logo she had ever seen. Even though it didn’t have any proximity to water, it caught her eye and made her gasp.
The company logo was BHP. “Ahhhh! The Big Australian,” she said.
The logo was in a pattern of Australia. It made her heart swell with pride. Maybe it was because it was a company that had small beginnings but now ranked amongst the world leaders, maybe because Kylie had no ties to them and it all seemed glossy and new compared to the old mine she could see from her house and during her daily commute and from her current place of work in the middle of town. BHP was starting a mine only three hours away from Mount Isa and had taken the name of the cattle station that the mine was located on. Cannington. It even sounded prestigious to Kylie. The job ad listed positions from Site Administrators, Above Ground Operators, Under Ground Operators and Site Support Staff. Maybe they had a job at their new tailings dam for her? It was clutching at straws but she would apply anyway.
She read the advertisement then re-read it remembering every detail, then ripped it out and put it in her handbag. Her heart was racing and she started to rock from side to side in her chair in excitement. As she polished off the remainder of her beer she casually continued scanning the pages of the paper but without the same intensity and urgency that defined her previous search. Turning the page, her eyes widened to see another advertisement, this time for M.I.M. (Mount Isa Mines).
By day, the enormous sprawl of the mine made up the western backdrop of the city and at night the mine’s bright lights depicted a ship in the desert, they were continual reminders of the industry she so wanted to be a part of, but not in the office sense. Kylie wasn’t ever interested in furthering her education through university but had always felt there were ample opportunities in the mining industry in operational roles, where, if you were lucky enough to get a foot in the door, the possibilities were endless. But getting those opportunities in Mount Isa seemed very difficult as the employment process was run along similar lines to the pecking order in the school playground. If you didn’t know no-body, your career was going no-where.
On seven occasions, Kylie had applied for general administration and operator roles at MIM but had never even progressed to the interview stage despite talking with ladies who worked there who she knew had the same skills as she did. She was torn. It didn’t matter if you worked in administration or were a labourer, MIM was the best paying employer in town but without having someone in the know, you were faced with working on the other side of the railway tracks, working much harder and for at least $10,000 per year less. Kylie either had to start working the room, or get the hell out of dodge.
Kylie was aware of the group she needed to impress. But they were a tough crowd to say the least. At her second job as a barmaid, whenever she saw them, she would always serve them first with a cheery greeting, showcasing her vivacious personality. If she thought she was 100 per cent guaranteed to get a laugh, she would even throw in a witty joke. Alas, it had never worked. Kylie always had in the back of her mind, ready for delivery, what she called staple jokes. These were timeless jokes that were easily understood and almost certain to be received with a nice little chuckle. They were jokes that were instantly recognisable and could be personalised for specific people. Even her staple jokes bombed with this snobby mob. This happened on her very next shift that evening.
Kylie was working in the Terrace Bar in the Mount Isa Irish Club, and Cherie, the Employment Officer at MIM came to the bar with her friend Sharon. They ordered two rum and cokes. Turning to Sharon, Kylie asked, “Is that going to be a big enough drink for you baby?”
Puzzled, Sharon tilted her head and asked, “What do you mean?”
Straight faced and eyeball to eyeball, Kylie replied, “Well I heard you’re a very generous person, and that you love...Sharon your drinks.”
Bingo, Sharon laughed. She even added, “I’ve never heard my name used in that sense before! Nice one.” She winked then walked off. Her mate Cherie wasn’t fussed and refused to flash her fangs in support of Kylie’s little quip. She even pouted, to ensure she didn’t show any signs of enjoying herself. Unfortunately for Kylie, Cherie was the one she had to impress. With a hair flick that could put Justin Bieber to shame, Cherie took her drink, turned and toddled off from the bar.
“Tough crowd,” Kylie said to herself as she went back to the northern end of the bar and tidied up the fruity condiments that were used to dress the cocktails they served. Picking up the tongs, she rearranged the pineapple and lemon then picked up a glazed cherry by its stem and held it close to her face and whispered in a French accent, “Luck-ee I did not alert to Mon Cherie that after years of searchin’ under all de rocks in town, I had in fact, found hers...”
Aware that she may have sprayed the glazed cherry with saliva while conversing with it in bad French, Kylie could either throw it away and waste it or waist it by eating it. Poor little cherry, it didn’t deserve to be thrown out. As she popped it into her mouth she heard a voice yell, “Kylie! You found it! You found it! You found your cherry!”
Kylie nearly choked, from laughing. It was her best friend since kindergarten and her comedic equal, Anastasia.
“Hey girlfriend, don’t go choking on that thing and force me to give you mouth to mouth!” Anastasia heckled.
“Yeah, cause we don’t know what that might turn into!” Kylie leaned in and went to high five her but intentionally missed, which made them both giggle again.
“What can I do to you, I mean, for you sweet cheeks?” Kylie asked her friend.
“I will have a gin and squash thanks, and make it a juicy double.” Anastasia was always in a good mood.
“Hup hup!” Kylie retorted. “Are we working tonight my love?”
“Is de frogs arse watertight?”
“Hmmm, is de frog in question gay?” Kylie needed to make an informed decision.
“Nope.”
“Then yes.” Kylie smiled. “What time you do you start?”
Anastasia looked at her watch. “In about…two drinks.”
Raising her eyebrows, Kylie put on her best poshe noshe voice and handed Anastasia her drink, “Well, I best not dilly dally then darling. Here is your beverage, please hand me a donation for my till.”
A handful of silver tinkled into the till. They chatted for a few minutes while Anastasia downed her drink and simply stated, “Again!”
“So, I was just sitting with Cherie and Sharon and Sharon was telling me you told her something funny,” Anastasia said.
“Ruh-heally?” Kylie said impressed her joke was retold.
“Yeah, Cherie didn’t laugh. She doesn’t think you’re very funny.” Anastasia gloated with a smile.
Well aware of this, Kylie tried to make light of it. “What, not even funny...lookin’?”
“Bah ha ha ha!” Anastasia laughed. “I didn’t ask her that. Do you want me to?”
“Nah, I’ll ask her mine self the next time that miserable bit of gear comes back for some more booze,” Kylie said, remaining optimistic that one day she would win her over.
“Good for you, don’t ever give up!”
Kylie looked at Anastasia seriously. “I do have to ask this though, you and I are pretty similar and bounce off each other, and they seem to like you...so if I’m like you, why don’t they like meeeee?”
“You, my funny little friend, cannot do anything for them, whereas I can!”
“What can you do for them pray tell?”
“Well, let’s just say that Cherie likes to sing, badly, and I mean she sings badly, but since I am the Karaoke Bar Music Hostess, I accommodate her every request and ensure she gets to the front of the queue.”
“You showbiz tart. What is she doing for you in return?”
“Did you see the paper today? There was a stack of jobs in there and one of them has my name on it!”
“Noooooo way! You’ve cracked it! You’ve crossed over to the other side!”
“Yep, I may live on the wrong side but I’m about to go to work on the right side of the tracks!”
“Good on you mate, I’m really happy for you.” Kylie leant over and gave her a big hug. This was a big deal in a small town. “Baby, your stocks are up. Would you like some more liquid to celebrate, you lil booze hag?”
“Do baked beans make you fart?”
“Rogerhhhh,” Kylie answered and began making another drink. “Take this and line your lungs with it. I’m looking forward to being entertained by you later tonight after I finish,” Kylie said.
“When do you clock off?” she asked.
“10 pm baby, then I’m changing my outfit and going out on the rantan with my friend Sophia from Cloncurry.”
“Oh yeah, I thought I saw her in here having dinner and drinks just before.”
“Yep, she’s appearing for one night only.”
“Okay, well I have to take the shortcut down the stairs so thanks for the ammo, I’ll see you in the basement!”
“Later gator,” said Kylie. “Oh, when you see me wave to you tonight can you play my song for me?”
“Of course darling. Anything for you!” Anastasia blew her a kiss and left via the internal staircase.
Meanwhile Cherie had returned to the bar with her sulky pout. “Two rum and cokes, Cherie?” Kylie pre-empted, aiming to please.
“Yes thank you,” Cherie replied.
“So Cherie,” Kylie started as she made the drinks, “Did I hear that you are representing Mount Isa in Netball?”
“Yes, I am actually, who did you hear that from?”
“Anastasia told me. I just wanted to say congratulations! You must have worked really hard for it,” said Kylie genuinely.
“Not really, my father is on the selection panel. I only want to go so that I have a few days shopping in Townsville for free.”
“Oh.” Kylie was surprised at her candidness. “Wow, it’s not what you know hey!”
“Absolutely,” she said handing her money over and taking a sip, looking directly at Kylie.
“Well have a fantastic time in Townsville. And good luck with your games,” she smiled handing her back her change.
“Yeah,” Cherie said dismissively.
Kylie turned around and opened the fridge up to bring all the bottles to the front. “What a miserable beyarch. If she isn’t even working hard to maximise a chance at winning in her own sport and is gliding under the security of her father’s name to get onto the Rep side, she would hardly promote hard work and self respect to new employees. Do I really want to sell my soul to that upperty puppet master anyway? Nope.” Slamming the fridge door shut, Kylie stepped out from the bar to collect some glasses and had to walk past the table where Cherie was sitting.
“How long have you been working here, Kylie?” Sharon asked as Kylie reached over and took their empties from the table.
“A couple of years. Why’s that mate? Looking for extra work?” Kylie asked. She honestly liked Sharon.
“As if you’d want to be a barmaid Sharon,” Cherie butted in.
“Why wouldn’t you want to be a barmaid Cherie?” Kylie asked politely.
“Well, you have to deal with drunks all night.”
“Oh, I don’t mind having to serve people like you Cherie, you obviously have quite a taste for it!” Kylie replied.
“Not ME! I’m not a drunk,” Cherie gasped.
“Not yeh-het! But everyone at this table knows it’s inevitable!” Kylie smiled and gave her a wink.
“Why don’t you get a real job instead of being a bar wench!” Cherie spat at Kylie.
“This is actually my second job Cherie, I work full time at the Post Office, remember? You know all those pornos you order from Fyshwick? Yeah? Well, I bundle them up for you and make sure you get them home nice and safe.”
Cherie blushed.
“Pornos Cherie, you dirty girl!” Sharon laughed.
“And remember that time we had to call you in because some mail you ordered was suspicious so the postmaster had to open it up to investigate. They thought it was a bomb because it was rattling around in its package? But it wasn’t was it Cherie?”
“That’s enough! I remember you work there now.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t a bomb, it was a massive vibrator you ordered for your massive vagina and they sent it with the batteries in it, so it was worn out before you could have a red hot go at it!”
“A VIBRATOR!” said Sharon, nearly choking on her drink as she laughed along with the rest of the girls at the table.
Kylie looked at Sharon. “It was massive mate, you should’ve seen this thing, it was so big it had a stand on it that could stabilise a motorbike. We all stood out the back waiting for the owner to collect it so Cherie had quite an audience when she arrived. Seems she wasn’t interested in Sharon that bit of information with you!”
Sharon laughed again and looked at Cherie...who was not laughing. AT ALL!
“Well, I hope you enjoy working your two jobs Kylie, don’t ever bother applying to MIM. You should know by now your application won’t go anywhere” Cherie gloated.
“Oh, thanks but I’m really happy where I am, reading all your mail and working for people I actually respect!” Kylie said then walked off knowing she had just shit in her own nest. But she had to be honest, and be herself. Even if it did mean welding already closed doors shut.
“Well that wasn’t very bright you widiot,” Kylie said to herself as she walked back to the bar with an armful of empty glasses. “You won’t ever be heading over the tracks now, as that cantankerous cow won’t leave her job for the next twenty years. You are one screwed dudette! You’ll have to come up with a brand new plan!”
Kylie unloaded the glasses onto the bench, sighed, and rested her hand on the beer tap. Seeing the ice around the pipes, she got her pen and lightly engraved a smiley face in the frost then winked at it. “You’ll be alright Smiley. Good things will come your way. You’ll see,” she said to herself, smiling at her shiny reflection on the beer tap handles.
Later that night Kylie met up with Sophia. They made their way through the six internal bars, giggling and chatting, before eventually finding themselves in the basement Karaoke Bar. Kylie waved to Anastasia and within five minutes her favourite song was being played, ‘Oh What a Night’ sung by Frankie Valli And The Four Seasons. Kylie and Sophia ran onto the dance floor and Anastasia joined them from the stage, taking a quick break from her hosting duties to boogie with her friend. She smiled and waved to greet Sophia then leant in to Kylie’s ear. “I heard what you said to Cherie.”
By this time Kylie had consumed four shooters and five bourbon and cokes.
“Go the Grapevine! Yeah, I’m smart hey!” Kylie laughed.
“Nope. Now what are you going to do?”
“Ahhh, I’ll think of something. Had my cards read today and they said I’m headed for change.”
“You’re always headed for change, every time the bar closes at 5 am you head straight for the loose stuff people drop at the bar!”
“Rogerhhhh! Kylie loves free stuff!”
“So what are you going to do?” she asked again, knowing how much Kylie had wanted to work at MIM.
“Baby when I figure it out, you will be the first to know. Watch this space!” Kylie threw her arms around Anastasia and gave her a hug. “Thank you for playing our song!”
“Anytime. I’ve gotta go. Have a great night!”
‘Rogerhhhhh.” Kylie wiggled and waved goodbye.
By three o’clock, Sophia and Kylie had both had enough. They wandered outside to get a taxi each as they were headed in different directions. As the next taxi pulled up, they said goodbye and Kylie reconfirmed that she would take Sophia to the airport just after midday.
Kylie arrived early to pick Sophia up from her hotel. They chatted all the way to the airport and Kylie helped her inside with her bags. There were other people at the airport who Sophia recognised so Kylie said goodbye and was on her way back to the car park earlier than she thought she would be. The inbound flight had just landed and the passengers were picking up their luggage and making their way to the car park and the taxi rank. It was by sheer luck that Kylie ran into an old work mate. They had worked together at KFC while Kylie was still at school.
“Emily! How are you?” said Kylie.
“Hey Kylie, Wow, I haven’t seen you in years. How are you?” Emily replied.
“I’m great thanks, I’m at the Post Office still and working nights at the Irish Club, life is good.”
“Hey, did you know that BHP Cannington is recruiting at the moment?”
“Yes I saw something yesterday in the paper.” Kylie’s face lit up with excitement.
“I just finished working there because I’m going overseas in a week, why don’t you send your resume through to the Townsville office?”
“Okay, I will. Thanks. I thought they wanted you to send it to the mine site, that’s where I would have sent it?”
“No, trust me, fax it to the Townsville office first thing tomorrow, the number is in the white pages, look I’ve got to go but good luck.”
“Okay, thanks, have a safe trip overseas!”
And that was it.
Kylie got in her car, drove home, and immediately got her resume ready to take to work the next day. After phoning the Townsville office of BHP Cannington at 9.01 am to get the right fax number, she faxed through her resume immediately.
Within three weeks she had a phone call asking her if she was interested in attending a job interview with Cannington. The position was based at the Port. In Townsville. Kylie had thought her resume would be put forward for a site-based fly-in fly-out position from Mount Isa. Nope. Apparently her resume had arrived the same day that applications for the Port Administration role had closed. She hadn’t even been aware that this position was open. The timing of her fax meant that her resume wound up on top of the pile on the Human Resource Manager’s desk. Her resume was treated as a wild card applicant.
Kylie couldn’t believe her luck. She treated the first interview fairly casually and thought the flight to Townsville would enable her to buy three, foot-long Subway sandwiches, one to eat after her interview and two to take back home on the plane. Leaving the Veggie Delights with Cheese with reception on her arrival at her interview, Kylie walked into the boardroom with no expectations of wooing a job away from a Townsville applicant. But just by being herself, she won over both the interviewers with her charisma and charm. She also made them laugh so hard one of them started crying. When she was flown back to Townsville for a second interview, she realised as she taxied out from the Mount Isa airport terminal that she had this job in the bag and she was going to take it, and that her life truly was about to undergo a huge change.
Within six weeks, Kylie was organising her farewell party and saying goodbye to all her lifelong friends. How about that for getting your fifty bucks worth!
