Hangovers and Jalapeños in Noosa
I peeled my face off the eye make up stained pillow, Miss R was spooning me and Prince, bless his soul, was still playing faintly on the CD player.
The hotel room was littered with empty champagne bottles and enormous bras and knickers were strewn everywhere. I saw the little orange cigar box and almost projectile vomited across the room. Miss H was still asleep, buried in a sea of pillows on the couch and Miss L was sitting on the balcony.
“Fuck I feel awful!” I said to Miss L standing at the balcony door.
“I know, it smells like cigars, fake tan and vaginas in there.” She said.
“Oh is that what that smell is?” I tried to laugh but feared that opening my mouth would unleash all of the espresso martinis I had last night.
“I’m hungry but there’s nothing to eat.” Miss L said.
I walked into the kitchen and came back out with what remained of my tiramisu birthday cake and two forks.
Breakfast and coffee in one!
“Hi girls,” Miss J dragged over a chair and joined us for a piece of cake.
“What the fuck happened last night?” Miss R walked out looking just as hilarious as the rest of us. The only remnants of last night’s Priscilla Presley inspired look was a now flaccid mop of hair that fell around her blood shot eyes.
“You know what’s funny? Last night you had a metre long winged eye and now you don’t have an inch of make up on your entire face” I said looking around the group trying to see if anyone had managed to keep their make up or their dignity.
HOB’s Top Make up Removal Tip: Searching for a fuss free way to remove your Saturday night glam make up? Simply drink three bottles of champagne, five espresso martinis and one Cuban cigar, work up a sweat at the town’s one and only nightclub (The Rolling Rock) then while you’re reaching for your purse that you’ve drunkenly thrown on the ground accidentally slide your sweaty face down the arm of an equally drunken random person. The combination of alcohol, sweat and friction will have your face looking barer than a Noosa girl’s cha cha in no time!
Now, a cure for a hangover requires a slightly different remedy…
There is only one thing to do to cure a hangover in Noosa and that my loves is go for a swim in the ocean…
We all stripped down into our bikinis and made our way through the hotel and out onto Main Beach.
Where we all just sort of flopped into the gorgeous sea. It was amazing!
Four plates of bacon and eggs, half a dozen coffees and a disco nap later we were feeling much better.
“We might have missed brunch at Bistro C but we can still make it to happy hour!” I said rounding the troops.
We got as dolled up as we could given the circumstances and made our way down to Bistro C.
The waiter who I recognised from high school led us down to the best table in the house.
We ordered a round of exotic cocktails, the calamari (It’s not called ‘Our Famous Calamari’ for nothing!) and to top things off, two plates of the special stuffed jalapeño peppers.
While we waited for our food to arrive we sipped our drinks and chatted about how nice it was to finally be back in town together at the best spot in Noosa.
And then I saw him.
“Fuck” – Me.
“Fuck what?” – Miss L
“Okay I want everyone to remain alert but not alarmed”. – Me
“What, why? What’s going on?” – Miss R.
“Your ex boyfriend has just sat down at the table behind you.”
“What the actual fuck” said Miss L and Miss J at the same time.
“I SAID REMAIN CALM!”
We all eye balled each other silently for a moment before the waitress arrived with the food.
Miss R who is practically engaged to her Spanish lover, José (pronounced ho-say) wasn’t really phased at all by the morbidly obese elephant in the room which was her ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend holding hands at the table directly behind her.
I on the other hand was highly distressed at how much he had changed since high school. His new hair style for example..
“Oh my, he looks like Nicholas Cage in Con Air Days” I said sipping my Salted Caramel Colada.
In order to relieve some of the tension in the room we turned our attention to the food. We each grabbed a pepper and popped it into our mouths.
“Ooh that’s a little bit spicy.” Miss J
“GAHH!!” – Miss L
“Okay that’s a lot spicy.” Miss J
“It’s fine you pussies.” Miss R said putting two in her mouth at the same time. Moments later a single tear escaped from the corner of her eye.
I turned to see if Miss J was okay and she looked back at me in sheer horror before a clear line of dribble slid uncontrollably out of her mouth.
As soon as I sensed the hotness I spat that little fucker out knowing that I’d probably never be let back into Bistro C again if I broke their toilet.
We all started roaring with laughter. Someone accidentally farted and we all broke our composure. Nicholas Cage and his missus looked on at us in complete and utter disgust which made us laugh even harder.
At this point we decided that it would probably be safer for ourselves and all other patrons of Bistro C to take this party back to the room.
“I hope we’re all doing this in 20, 40 years from now” I said curled up with Miss L on the deck chair.
“What, laughing, farting and dribbling? Sounds like a guarantee” Miss J laughed looking more gorgeous and toned than she had the day before. How was that possible?
“We can do this when you all come and visit me and José in Mexico” Miss R said nursing her mojito.
“If we come to Mexico I can definitely guarantee you more than a fart” I chuckled remembering my deathly bout of Montezuma’s Revenge.
We all started laughing again.
It was official, my birthday weekend was almost over and I was another year older. However, in that moment I didn’t care if all of the years started to roll in quickly from here as long as I found the chance to come home and laugh this much with my girlfriends every now and again. The truth is, there are some things that will change with age like the colour of your hair but there are some things, usually the most important that will always stay the same…
This view, these girls and my self diagnosed irritable bowel syndrome.