Crisis of Identity

We waved goodbye to The Sand Bar $100 lighter and ventured out into the mall. The thumping bass from a nearby club led us around the corner to a club called Sinners. Sounded promising, if its name is anything to go by.

While we considered our club options, of which there were many in this street, three fit girls in short skirts and spike heels strolled by and into Sinners. ‘This’ll do just fine…’ I said, while watching the girls ascended the three front steps.

We followed them in through the front doors. A massive islander with no neck, dressed in bouncer-black demanded photo ID, which he scanned. Next stop was the fit girl at the entry who relieved us of $30 each and provided a Fluoro yellow wrist band.

Once inside, the psychedelic Techno beat grabbed a hold of us. I began a trance-like nodding to the vibe. The place was thumping. Bodies jumped and writhed in unison. Purple fluorescent lights strobed across the dark dance floor and ricocheted off the walls.

The carpet squelched under foot as I moved to join the massive queue around the bar. Each step peeled from the carpet like I was wearing Velcro soles. A mouldy damp stench wafted up from the sodden floor. I hate to think what was soaking in this carpet.

The jostle for front position at the bar was like being at a chaotic food drop in a starving third-world country – every man, or woman for themselves.

Once I reached the front I leaned on the bar. It was reminiscent of standing front row at a rock concert with the surging crowd pushing forward from behind. It was out of control.

The over-worked girls behind the bar really didn’t want to be there, or that’s what their expressions screamed. Two beers relieved me of twenty-eight bucks.

I returned to Mitch and handed him his drink. ‘Enjoy that bro. It’s liquid gold in here.’ Mitch accepted his drink then opened a hand to reveal two jozzas. I checked over my shoulders. ‘Awesome… Where did you get those?’ I said.

Mitch lifted his chin towards the toilets in the rear corner. ‘Some bloke over there. You name it… He’s got it,’ Mitch said.

‘How much…?’

‘Coupla Lobsters…’

‘Cool. Smoker’s room…?’ I suggested.

‘This way…’ Mitch gestured to our right.

While I am not, and never have been a cigarette smoker, I don’t mind the occasional toke. Some will argue that’s a distinction without a difference, but I beg to differ. There is no carcinogenic tobacco in my joints.

It was evident that very little of the dense second-hand smoke in the smokers’ room was from cigarettes. We slipped into a couple of lounge chairs and sparked up our sticks.

The considerably lower noise levels made it easier for conversations. We were planning the next couple of days when an easy-on-the-eye, well-tanned, leggy girl in a short lemon coloured dress approached us.

‘Excuse me… I’m so sorry to bother you…’ she said, bending forward to be heard over the chatter.

‘That’s not a problem. You can bother me any time,’ I said. It was hard not check out the generous cleavage she displayed.

‘I’m just here with my friends over there,’ she gestured to three girls back behind her. ‘I have gotta ask… You wouldn’t happen to be from Robina, would you… You know… When you were a kid…?’

I couldn’t tell if that was a pick up line, or a genuine question. I so much hoped for the former. ‘No. I’m sorry. I’m not.’ Part of me suddenly wished I was from Robina.

‘So you never lived in Woodlands Drive, as a kid then….?’ She said as a question.

‘No, sorry. I don’t even know where Robina is.’

‘Ah, that’s OK. It’s south-west of here.’ She gestured generally to her left.

‘Can I ask why you asked me that…?’

‘I grew up on Woodlands Drive in Robina and I thought you may have been a neighbour of mine, back when we were kids…’

‘No, sorry. But part of me now wished I did, if it meant I would’ve had you as my neighbour.’ Her smile was pleasant, but more importantly, she didn’t find my flattery creepy. ‘Did you move away, or something…?’ I asked.

‘No. No. I’m really boring. I still live with my parents… The reason I asked was because a few years back—’

‘Believe me, you are far from boring…’ I said.

‘…when I was just a kid…’ she paused to smile as my comment resonated. ‘A neighbour of mine was kidnapped from his front yard. I didn’t actually know him, but my parents have talked about it for ever. I’ve seen photos and stuff, and I just thought you looked a little bit like this kid, but, you know… a grown up version.’

Again with this kidnapped kid. Mitch caught my knowing sideways glance. The grin he tried to suppress emerged out the side of his face.

‘That’s really interesting...’ I said, feigning interest. I did my best to keep her engaged. ‘So, you never met this kid, then?’

‘No. He was three when he was taken. I was only two at the time so no, I never met him. It’s just you look a lot like the photos published by the media of him as an adult.’

The comparison to this missing kid that keeps coming up was wearing thin. In fact, it borders on the ridiculous. If she wasn’t so hot, I would’ve moved on long ago. But she was. ‘So, the young fellow… he is still missing today…?’

‘He is. Only he wouldn’t be young now. If he was alive he would be my age.’

‘If he was alive….? Do you think he met with foul play?’

‘No-one knows. There were all sorts of theories back then…’

‘So… He’d be your age, would he?’ I grinned. ‘And what age is that…?’ She smiled, baulking at the question one should never ask a woman. I extended my hand to break the awkwardness. ‘I’m Kade and this is Mitch…’ She smiled at Mitch. ‘I’m twenty-eight…’ I said, hoping she would respond in kind.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, contemplating my question. I gave my best reassuring smile. She accepted my handshake with a hypnotizing smile. Her hand was soft and small and fitted perfectly into mine.

‘Sarah…twenty-seven. And that’s Bec…that’s Robbie and that’s Michelle.’

I waved to the girls. ‘Lovely to meet you, Sarah, from Robina…’

‘Likewise…’ she said.

I inhaled on what was left of my Jozza, then extended it to Sarah. She accepted it and blew lightly on the end. She inhaled deeply, holding it in her lungs as she passed it back to me.

‘We’re visitors to the Coast… You’re a local. What are the best clubs around here?’ I took another deep toke.

‘We were just talking about going to Room 181… It’s not far from here.’

‘That’s really weird…’ I said with feigned excitement. ‘Mitch and I were just saying, why don’t we hit… Room 181 next.’

‘Is that right..?’ she said, oozing cynicism.

‘Well, I’m sure that’s what we would’ve said, if we knew the place…’ I gave my best smile.

Sarah nodded. ‘Why don’t you join us…’ she said. ‘It’s mostly hip hop though… Does that matter?’

‘Not in the slightest. Mitch…?’ I said seeking his opinion. He was too busy checking out Sarah’s friends to respond. I gave him a gentle elbow.

‘Huh… Oh, ah, yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.’

We finished up what was left of the spliffs and left for Room 181.