EFFIE BATEMAN | BRISBANE| CONTACT
It’s often in the wee hours of the morning that one finds themself embarking on some harsh self-reflection.
Something local woman Leisl Bates knows a little too well.
Staring at an unfamiliar ceiling while she contemplates whether her 2% battery could get her home, Leisl’s post-coital glow is quickly waning the louder her bed partner snores. A situation made all the worse, considering she didn’t even know the bloke’s last name.
It’s said that Leisl met her temporary beau earlier that night when she’d ventured into the smoker’s area, which acts as both prime real estate for scoring or a hookup. Or if you’re lucky, a two for one deal.
After hitting it off with ‘Ryan’, who’d heavily hinted that he lived not too far from the Royal Coke Hotel, Leisl had shot her friend Emily a knowing look before linking arms and finding her way into a brick building that was very clearly student accommodation.
Now, fast forward three hours and Leisl’s exciting evening of drunken flirtation has come to a startling end, as her eyes flit between the ceiling, his single bedsheet and the collection of Star Wars figurines on his bedside table.
As she tries to push Ryan onto his side in the hopes he’ll stop vibrating the entire bed with his death rattle, Leisl wonders if the twenty minutes of action is worth insomnia. Or what will undoubtedly be an awkward interaction in a few hours when the light hits the room and she realises he’s not as good looking as she originally thought.
More to come.
