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!