What is it about pool parties that makes dudes want to get their dick out? I seem to remember an unfortunate incident on a previous trip to the states, where a beloved gal pal looked up from partying in the pool to cop an eyeful of a gay black man helicoptering his wang around for anyone who cared (or didn't) to look. She was scarred for life. Thankfully my swimming pool shlong story is more hilarious than terrifying. It goes something like this. Austin, Texas is famous for its live music scene and shoulder to shoulder bars blasting band tunes. My host and hostess Ryan and Charlotte wanted to give me a taste of this awesome thriving scene, so on Saturday night (last night) we decided to go out and get amongst it. As I may have mentioned yesterday, Charlotte was in fact suffering from a bastard of a migraine so accompanied us to dinner, but left us to pursue the louder and later part of the night. Good decision that, because the night turned out to be rather large. It's kind of funny for a teetotaler to try and claim a large night out. I mean how big can a night be when you're drinking waters? Well, large for me means lots of dancing, staying out til 4.30 in the morning and seeing some crazy, hilarious shit. (And no, large has nothing to do with the offending male appendage, but more about that later.) We started our evening at a place called Beauty Bar, where an interesting collection of hip and who cares types were congregating in the humid night heat. The tunes of choice were mainly hip hop, which I could have gotten into, but didn't because we moved on. Next up was a walking tour of the main bar strip (was it Congress? Or 68th or something?), which was a long strip of street, closed off for partying and seriously rammed with bars blaring live music and spewing happy drinking revelers. It is here that during SXSW an unbelievable line up of cool bands play back to back, side by side, in a dream parade for music fans. It's also the kind of scene that would have been the best time ever if you were at college. Of course, I'm not at college, so didn't feel the need to dive into the fray on this occasion. As it happened we ended up at a place called Plush, a concrete floored, beat-up wooden barred, graffiti walled den playing cool funky tunes and full of laid back, music-appreciating booty shakers. It was fun. Austin people, I have decided, are the opposite of uptight. They are inclusive and cool in a different way to New Yorkers, but both groups have a similar idea: let people roll how they roll, and be happy. Or maybe it was just Ryan's crew that were like that. Whatever the case, it was a good vibe. So we danced, and we yelled conversation at each other, and Aaron invented the “holding the perimeter” dance move, which successfully gave us space to pull awesome moves, and all of a sudden it was 2.30am and the club was closing. Luckily Ryan and his pals knew the people running the place (or maybe they were running the place – it certainly seemed that way) so we could hang around for a bit. And then the pool idea came up. So off we went. And that is how I came to be sitting on the side of an awesome pool on the top of a building with about 30 other mentally but quite jovially wasted Texans swanning about. I felt like I’d been plopped in the middle of a college movie. Boys with beers stood in the water chatting (one who was an ex of mine’s total doppelganger - crazy, trippy shit), girls lounged poolside and whiffs of weed sauntered by occasionally. Oh yeah, and every single one of us had jumped the fence, which at the time seemed pretty hilarious. And then the dude got his dick out. It wasn’t in an exhibitionist way, more of an I’m wasted and I wanna get naked and go swimming kind of um, bent. And naked he got and swimming he went. Which would have been fine (kind of) if he hadn’t been doing all his undie stripping and in-pool jumping right next to me. As the girl beside me said (think Texan girl accent), “Oh my God I just saw a penis!”. I actually didn’t see a penis (at least not in all its full frontal “glory”), but was acutely aware (in my peripheral vision) of the wandering pool snake meandering ever closer to my dangling legs. In the end, when Mr Snakey’s owner approached to engage in some apparently idle chit chat (I think he was off his tits, judging by the speed at which he was babbling), I had to first angle my legs away, then withdraw them altogether to avoid any possibility of contact. It was all pretty funny really. Of course, he wasn’t the only one acting crazy. Another guy kept attempting to take a nap in the water, with his face half submerged on the step (he was actually quite successful). And who can blame them? If I had been drinking, I would have been straight in the pool, wearing as I was a bikini bottom under my dress. It would have mattered nil that I didn’t have a top. I would have been the bare boobed twin to our dude with dick out. And while it may seem like quite loose behaviour, thinking about it now, I’m not sure it would have been so bad. It would probably have been lots of fun. Which in fact it was anyway. Awesome, trippy, crazy, hilarious, Texan holiday fun.
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