I walk in from the elevator past the reception to a class room like any, only there is a mock bar up against the whole left side of the room. "Where was this class in high school?", I think to myself. A middle aged woman is sitting at the middle of one of the tables.
"Hi, how are you? I'm Dianna."
She extends her hand for a handshake. Before i realise that my hand is still wet and soapy from washing my hands in the toilet, I've embraced her hand in mine in a horribly moist and lubricated handshake. Dianna screws up her face in disgust.
"This is wine and wine service, right?", I say trying to move on from the violation.
"Yeah. This your first week?", she says as a young unshaven man and girl a foot short of any normal height, yet a good foot short of dwarfism come in. "This is David and Rianna."
Rianna is wearing a denim mini-skirt, 'fuck-me' boots and a purple thermal shirt; an interesting mix. I smile politely and say hi.
David is wearing two caps, baggy jeans and hoodie. He extends his hand to me - straight away i know this is going to be trouble. Foolishly i try to shake his hand in the conventional way. David having none of this, molests my hand in a fashion that he and his fellow hilltop hoods fan club members do to each other around tea and biscuits.
Two horrible handshakes in two minutes. I'm pretty consistently an awkward handshaker, but i think this could be a record even for me.
A few others lurk in through the door and sit down. They put their faces down on the desk and do their best to get back to sleep. 25 minutes after the scheduled start a guy in a white shirt and Simpsons' 'Duff' tie walks in.
"Hi, My name is Arlo. Welcome to wine and wine service. Over the week we'll be learning all about wine and the correct way to serve it. We'll learn about all the different sorts of wines; varietal wines, general wines; fortified wines, aperitif wines, dessert wines................."
"Hey, what sort of wine is passion-pop? i got fully smashed on that on the weekend. They kicked me out of where ever it was i was at - I don't remember where."
"We'll be learning the different characteristics of the wines; the palate, the aroma, visual characteristics. We will learn wine terminology and how to intelligently discuss and describe a wine's distinctive tastes. Come Wednesday we will even get to have a bit of a wine tasting........."
"Last time i did this course i was pregnant and i didn't get to try the wines - well, I wasn't meant to", giggles Jasmine, a 20 year old ready to burst again. "And I'm pregnant again, she'll be my third, so I guess I can only have a couple of glasses again. I know she's going to be a 'she', because i read it in my horoscope."
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During morning tea talk turns to piercings.
"Hey Jasmine, when does the stud in my lip stop hurting?", asks Hannah - imagine an Uma Thurman having spent six months on crystal meth.
"I don't really know. I have a pretty high pain threshold. I didn't feel anything with any of my piercings. When I got my tattoos done i had to ask when the body artist had finished", she doesn't mention child birth, but i have a sneaking suspicion that she gets an epidural and whatever other medication she can get. "But I had to take most of my piercings out 'cause my daughter keeps playing with them."
"Most", I wonder. Perhaps she had a nipple chain. Probably got in the way when lining the kids up for their breast feedings.
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Arlo comes up to me and another chap, Bryan. Bryan doesn't believe smoking causes cancer, but he does believe that if you roll your own it will make a mess of your fingers. He learnt this the hard way- a yellow-brown growth on his index and middle fingers on his right hand. Rolling your own smokes appears to be a sign of your dedication to smoking, the (un-)cancerous growths on your body a badge of your dedication; not like those two pack a day pre-packed smokes posers.
"This is the first week for you two, right? Let me show you around."
Arlo takes us through a few rooms with nothing more than desks and chairs and then the 'student room', which has a vending machine and yesterday's paper. Then Arlo takes us to the 'tourism section'. The room is a hive of activity compared to the rest of the place.
"...and here we have the tourism section..."
"What is this, a sweatshop?" says Bryan, referring to how a large section of the class is Asian.
"Huh, sweatshop?", Arlo pretends he doesn't understand this racial slur. i cringe and try to move on as soon as i can.
Afternoon tea and conversation turns to different restaurants we've all been to.
"Oh yeah, I've been there", says Bryan. "Doesn't it have that fucking fag working there with the blond hair? It's shit."
Evidently Bryan hates the queers as well as the Asians.
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End Day 1
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3 comments:
hang on... i forgot to talk about how the pregnant girl talks about how marajuana doesn't cause schizophrenia. You know, because i'm sure she's conducted her own extensive experiments.
More please.
I propose you show up next time wearing a shirt with UPSHAKE.COM in big letters on it.
I'm glad you have the blog to expel all this filth, experiences like this can fester for years in your gut.
I vote you go after the Uma Thurman one to find out where her other piercings are. Was that the one with the low-pain threshold? Can she eat wasabi like mayonnaise because she's "immune"? That's what a similar person told me once. I was so impressed.
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