ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A local city worker returned from a work trip to Melbourne on Sunday night feeling ‘down’ and ‘irritable’, according to his domestic life partner.
That’s despite the assurance that everyone went well and the deal they went to do is all but done.
Speaking to The Advocate today in the new Starbucks under our Daroo Street newsroom, Libby Mossart said she picked husband Damien up from the Remienko Memorial Aerodrome shortly after 8pm and he looked very worse for wear.
He’d left on Friday morning, very early, with his two colleagues and boss. They were heading down to finalise an agreement with a multinational supplier that would see the local business finally flourish into one that everyone around town would be proud of.
“He sent me a text on Friday afternoon that they’d done the deal, shaken the hand,” said Libby.
“Which is obviously great news. They work in solar, this project will put millions into Betoota. Employ hundreds. Once the ink is dry, I guess we can celebrate. But Dame (Damien) and his colleagues said they were going to the pub anyway to have one or two, maybe even three schooners to mull the deal over and reflect on the whole thing,”
“Before I went to bed, I checked where he was on Find My Friends. Or Find My Husband as I call it. He was in the city still at 10pm. I guess it turned into a few more!”
“When I got up at 6 when my son woke me up, I checked again and he was at the Casino. I can’t remember if he was staying there or not. I hope so. I knew he was going to the races on the Saturday so obviously he was sleeping, right?”
Damien acknowledged that he’d had more than a couple pints on Friday.
“We went fucking mad,” he said.
“This deal is worth millions. It’s not signed yet but we’re just waitng for the government to sign off on it and we’re away. So we left their office and went to the nearest pub, some Irish place in the city. We had some Guinnies (Guinness) and had a good chat. We had about three there then Mike disappeared for about 30 minutes and came back with three bags. He sat down at the table and handed me his wallet. Go on, he said, we’re in Melbourne mate, so off I went and came back, didn’t say much, just held onto the table for 20 minutes and breathed through the back of my head, where there was now a gaping hole. Our boss even got in on it. He’s like 60. We had to cut them up for him but he sucked them back like a fucken teenager, the big bastard,”
“We leave that place, get an Uber and we go to some bar Mike knows and we meet up with a few blokes from back home and he get some smokes and sit out the back of this pub in town for a couple of hours until the sun goes back, we’re coming and going from the quiet disabled toilet on the second floor. My boss turns to us and asks, aren’t you blokes worried about fentanyl, to which Mike says Mr Carter, I am fentanyl before doing the robot. This is all taking place inside a disabled toilet mind you. We walk out together and there’s some bird there with her baby waiting to use the change table in there. We laugh and say sorry, that our boss is old and needs help to go to the toilet, fuck we laughed but she didn’t, hey,”
“We go to another bar and we switch to the rums, Mike goes and gets more bags from this bloke. He reckons they come on e-bikes in Melbourne, much different to Sydney and Brisbane. Much more civilised meeting a bloke for ‘Uber Eats’ and it’s just a bag full of drugs. They’ve got it all worked out here in fucken Melbourne mate. Anyway, we end up at some rank night club then the Casssssss (Casino) and we stay there all night. Head back to the hotel for a few hours. Then shower, suit back on, to the races we go. The boss is fucked, he’s not coming, so Mike and I head off in a cab. Fucken have the best day at the races, get up heaps. Go back to the hotel and get the boss out of bed. Give him some food, fuck it, we all had some food then. Then went out on the town again. Pulled up at 2am because we had an early flight. Fuck 12 noon, early enough. Then yeah,”
“Land back home and Lib wants to do something like go out for a drink or some takeaway. I’m like please let me get horizontal, I’m near death, my love. But I suck it up and put on a smile and out we go. But fuck me, I’m only just coming good now. I’m getting my thirst back but. I fucking love this town man I’m going drinking on Friday for Froggy’s 40th. It will be mad, he’s a fucken lunatice.”
Our reporter said that was enough for the story. Damien looked disappointed.
“Mate, Melbourne fucken rules, hey?”
More to come.
