CLANCY OVERELL | Editor | CONTACT
Local yuppie, Caleb Thistlethropp (38) has been out of the game for a while.
After settling down in his late twenties with one of the up-and-coming stage actresses from a Betoota Theatre production that he had provided sound design for, Caleb hasn’t really hit the tiles for a decade.
However, after a rampant Twitter addiction saw his marriage fall apart into weekly co-parenting duties, it seems this fading Arctic Monkeys-era hipster is back out there passive-aggressively chatting up girls like Ryan Gosling in Crazy, Stupid Love.
With a couple of old mates in the same post-pandemic divorcee boat, Caleb has officially joined the ‘wild bunch’ – a crew of recently single corporate creatives who are revisiting their hard-living days of the late 2000s, in their quest to pick up younger chicks.
For his first night back in Betoota’s iconic Old City District nightclub precinct, this reintroduced domestic pet is going through all the same paces.
First, he sprays the Paco Rabanne ‘1 Million Eau De Toilette’ on his throat and wrists.
Second, he ruffles his greying mohawk-mullet with some Fructis Surf Hair.
From there, he picks out his favourite beige or off-white U-neck General Pants T-shirt, before shoehorning himself into some painted-on Levi jeans.
In fact, the only thing that is different to Calbe’s glory days in the dadbod husk jutting out above his airtight button-up fly.
With the electronic sounds of MGMT blaring on a UE boom speaker in the kitchen of his mate’s newly leased inner-city apartment, Caleb is mixing up the jagerbombs while smoking a Peter Stuyvent cigarette on the balcony.
“Oi lads” he shouts to his fellow members of the skinny jeans and cologne crew.
“Out on the balcony. I’ve got a surprise.
At time of press, Caleb was handing out KMart drinking glasses of a highly caffeinated pre-drink, while making a chauvinistic toast like something out of his favourite TV show Entourage.
“Now lets crunk!” he finishes with, as he downs his Red Bull mixer.
He’s back.
