ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
If Dave Petersen thought his white-linen shirt couldn’t get any whiter, getting soaked in chlorinated water and being exposed to alt-J in direct sunlight will surely make it so.
Somebody at the Betoota Grove party just pushed the 25-year-old banker into the pool, a clear indication that the festivities are about to kick up a notch.
“Oh my God, bro,” he shouted.
“You’re lucky I got the new iPhone, dude. They’re waterproof [laughs] Seriously, though. Whoever did that is a dead man walking.”
Trying not to meekly giggle about the whole debacle was Matty Turner, who’s hosting the party at his parent’s leafy six-bedder on Collon Road – just opposite the mayor’s house.
By all indications, he was guilty.
Dave took a sip of his now chlorinated Heineken and hauled his body out of the water.
Matty’s father wasn’t there to tell them off for having glass in the pool, nor to stop them from running around it.
He was playing golf, his mother was upstairs having a Valium-induced lie down with a bottle of red and the Very Best of Fleetwood Mac.
They were free; they were infinite.
“Dude, you’re so fucked!” shouted Dave as he started chasing Matty around the Tuscan-inspired pool area.
The rest of the guests erupted in glee watching the duo act the goat.
All the while the countdown had reached 50 without anybody so much as saying ‘Track!’ aloud.
When asked if they’d be intently listening to the rest of the countdown, they said they would.
More to come.
