C is for Caught Out

Friday, June 04, 2010

Back when I was at Uni, and well before I had a full time job, my best friend and I were out at the Casino one night. We were both flat broke, bored and desperately in need of a few drinks that we didn’t have enough cash to buy.

Clearly, in this situation, the only thing to do is to find someone who is willing to buy drinks for you in exchange for the pleasure of some sociable conversation; however we didn’t even have enough cash to buy our first drink, which would have given us a reason to be in a bar in the first place. Instead we were loitering around the pokies trying to come up with a way to salvage our night.

It was only when an American couple wandered past chatting loudly that we came up with a plan. What guy can resist a couple of girls with accents!? So we settled ourselves into a couple of chairs in a walkway and began to chat very loudly in what I can only assume were terrible American accents. They might have been terrible, but American accents were the only ones that both of us could manage without it being obvious from word one that it was a put-on.

The casino is a big place full of drunken men, so it wasn’t long before a slightly inebriated guy stopped next to us and exclaimed something along the lines of “Oh! You’re American! That’s awesome!”
There followed a few minutes of nervous conversation, during which we both felt that it was inevitable that he would call our bluff. We claimed to be from New York, having decided that it seemed like a suitably varied place accent-wise, and that we were travelling students. Thank, I’m sure, mostly to his state of drunkenness, he seemed believe everything we said, and invited us to go with him to meet up with his friends, who had won some kind of competition and were getting free beer all night at what was then the All Star Cafe.

When we got there, we found a group of about 5 guys who were all even drunker than the first. The accent seemed easy after that, because they never asked any question more difficult than “So what do you like about Australia?”
The beer flowed freely, and for the next hour we enjoyed ourselves endlessly.

About an hour or so in, and while I was in the process of being chatted up by a very attractive guy, another of their friends showed up. We remember him as annoying mustard shirt guy, because he had come from some other function and was wearing a hideous mustard coloured shirt made of that horrible 80’s/90’s fabric that feels a bit like suede.

Problem - Annoying mustard shirt guy was sober.

This was a problem, because we weren’t sober anymore, and the terrible American accents had undoubtedly become appalling American accents. Five minutes later, and annoying mustard shirt guy started in with the questions. Where are you from, how long are you here, where in New York do you live...
After a few questions, It became like a quiz. Where do you like to eat, where did you go to school...

When he asked us who we voted for in the last election, we knew we were caught out. We faked a bathroom break and ran out the door as fast as we could. Which if memory serves me, probably wasn't that fast. You can drink a lot of free beer in an hour.


It was a short night out by our normal standards, but more memorable than most. I’d like to say that I feel bad about the deception, but I would be lying. The guys had a great time, we had a great time, no one had to buy drinks and it made for a memorable night. If only it weren’t for stupid annoying mustard shirt guy, the fun could have gone on.

I think this experience is one of the reasons that I hate to be the only sober person when we head out for the night. Mustard shirt guy should have headed straight to the bar and had a few shots first, and then instead of ruining everyone’s night, he could have joined in the fun.


This entry is part of my ‘A-Z of Me’ Series. 26 Days of alphabetically ordered random crap about me and my life. You can read the rest here.

1 comments:

Tyge said...

That's a great story! I always thought Americans had no accent, unlike everyone else in the world. Also, the men should have picked-up on your charade because I'm sure you and your friend were way too slender to be an average American.

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