CORBIN DANIELS | Crime | Contact
With his ponytail flapping playfully in the warm desert breeze last night, a mildly unpopular accountant threw caution to the wind and followed his friends from one suburban pub to a famous inner Betoota nitespot.
Admitting to our reporter this morning on the D45 bus from the French Quarter up the hill to Betoota Heights, Boris Watson said he was kind of glad he did follow his mates to the Fitzrovia Club on Ru de Putain last night because he ended up going home with a perfect stranger.
“It was kind of weird,” said the directionless 32-year-old.
“Come to think of it, it was pretty fucking weird. I told myself I wasn’t going to get pissed last night. I even took my work shit to the pub so I’d have a reason to leave. But yeah, it was stinking hot yesterday out in that beer garden and long story short, I reckon I must’ve inhaled five schooners of heavy in the hour on an empty stomach. The only smart thing I did was put my work gear behind the bar,”
“Then yeah, it’s all a bit of a blur until we got down the Fitz. We had some shots then me and another mate decided to cut the rug for a bit downstairs in that part, you know, just as you walk in?”
Judging from the reactions he received from other bus passengers telling the following part of the yarn, the rest of the story has been omitted from today’s edition of The Advocate.
Never the less, around 6am this morning, he left the home of an Old City District leasing agent, had a drink of water from her sharehouse kitchen sink and ran into the dog.
“He just kind of looked up at me, stared right into my eyes,” said Watson.
“I wondered if he was hungry or something but he wouldn’t let me near. He wouldn’t even take a pat. He just looked at me with this knowing but ultimately disgusted look. It was quite confronting, this hasn’t happened to me before. I said goodbye to him and walked out the door,”
“When I said it was a weird night, that’s what I mean. I mean the dog.”
More to come.