11.18.2007

Day 4

Ginger of That Kind of Girl was the last one to submit her story. Her story wins posting rights for day four Monday just because of the sheer oddness and ick factor. Here is Ginger's story. I'm still traumatized!

Ok, it took me a while to remember this one but this is pretty good.or at least it is a good memory. Even thought I think I am too late for the contest.

The summer after I graduated college I went to Australia for a month and traveled around by myself. About 3 weeks into my trip, I found myself staying at a hostel in tropical (i.e. jungle-like) part of northern Australia. There was nothing in walking distance of this hostel but it was the coolest place I stayed. It was just a bunch of cabins in the middle of this immense feeling jungle. Needless to say, there wasn’t much to do except drink. So I drank. And I found this Canadian guy to drink with that was traveling around with one of his buddies. Anyone who knows a Canadian knows that they know how to drink. So we started drinking at dinner one of the first nights I was there. At midnight they had a ‘midnight wildlife sighting tour through the jungle” since, apparently, ferocious jungle animals only come out at night. By this time we were about 1 ½ sheets to the wind (in other words we had been drinking pints since about 6 pm). So we head out into the jungle with our headlamps and our crazy little Australia back-country tour guide and a few other crazy idiots who decided to sign up for this tour as well. We are wandering through the jungle, with our headlamps, spotting large insects and lizards, when I excitedly pronounce “There’s a frog!” Because, well, I was a little drunk so I was super excited I was the first one to find something besides an insect the size of my arm or a lizard. Then the guide goes “well, that’s actually a cane toad.” For those of you who aren’t familiar with the wrath of the cane toad on Australia, I will just say they are not liked very well. Not at all. The eat everything, destroy everything and can’t be killed…well…are very hard to kill. So the guide goes into a little lecture about the cane toads and how bad they are and this lady, a women on the tour by herself but had her kids and husband back at the hostel, says “Can you kill it?” Turns out she was quite the environmentalist and a native Australian so her hatred towards the cane toad was extremely ardent. The conversation between the two of them proceeded as follows (to the best of my memory):
Guide: “Well, since I am technically working and being paid to give you a tour, I can’t legally kill it, although you can as a private citizen….”
Crazy Women (CW): “Really?”
Guide: “Yeah, I mean I would but I can’t in front of all of you.”
CW: “So I can kill it? I mean I can’t just let it go? We can just let it go” (looking to us innocent drunk people for validation to kill this poor cane toad…instead finding us all stunned, and a little scared, that we are in the middle of the jungle at midnight with 2 people that obviously have NO problem killing a poor evil cane toad.).
Guide: (this is where it really starts to get weird) “If you killed it that would be awesome (or some Australia slang that means the same thing).”
Their conversation goes back and forth for what seems like ages along these same lines. The CW finally decides she has to do it. The rest of us are so stunned we don’t even know what to do. The CW proceeds to pick up a large stick and beat the poor cane toad. The thing about cane toads, like I mentioned before, they do not go easily into the dark night. On a regular basis, people poison and run over (with their cars) cane toads and they do not die. Cane toads apparently have the ability to pretty much throw up their insides so they can be smooshed flat, then swallow them and hop on their merry way.

The CW keeps beating this poor toad. Over and over again. She FINALLY thinks it is dead and stops, only to have the toad start trying to hop away. So she picks up a rock and finishes the job. IT TOOK HER LIKE 5 MINUTES to kill this damn thing, all the while us poor innocent folks are just standing there freaked the shit out in the middle of the jungle.

So, after the massacre, the tour continues, all of us too stunned to even know what to do. We all just want to get the fuck out of there. Soon enough, we come across another cane toad. AND SHE DID IT AGAIN! All the while the tour guide is L-O-V-I-N-G IT! ABSOLUTELY LOVING IT.

We eventually finish the tour and go back to the hostel. The Canadian and I kept drinking long into the night (to drown the memory of the toad killings…or maybe because it was fun and we had nothing else to do). Around 4 am we started stumbling back to our respective cabins….we didn’t make far though…we ended up in the bathrooms making out in the shower stall (give me a break, it was the only place where we wouldn’t wake up any of our roommates).

2 comments:

Jeninacide said...

OMg that is a GREAT Drunk story. Better than mine I think...

Patty said...

OMG, CW indeed. Poor Toad.

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