2003-05-22 at 9:42 p.m.

Every Wednesday night- be there sun, rain, a typhoon, showers of blood, or plagues of insurance salesmen- I head down to the local pub to take advantage of the Uni Student special prices. Usually, I hang out there with my friends until around 11:30ish, at which point I head home and get a good night's sleep so I can face the ordeal of my piano lesson on Thursday.

This, of course, is why I found it somewhat odd to be in a completely different pub at 3am last night, singing Van Morrison to a bunch of bleach blonde women in tube tops.

You probably have a few questions about how I wound up there. I'd like to answer them now.

1. Yes.

2. Purple. Or maybe magenta.

3. No. Never.

4. Once.

5. Once.

6. Okay, maybe it was twice, but the first time doesn't count because the donkey lost his party hat.

7. Ear-splitting. And very off-key.

8. Yes. It was most amusing for everyone except the bathroom attendant.

9. Spandex.

10. Surprisingly sober.

To summarise, I found myself attending a couple of places where any decent human being with half an inch of sanity should fear to tread. This is due mostly to- dim 'mood' lighting, the top 20 being played on the big screen near the dancefloor, and teenagers attired completely in spandex. I was the only woman in a 500 metre radius not wearing a halter top. And had passed puberty.

The first club we went to was called 'Fannys'. Now, in the UK, I believe 'fanny' is the equivalent of 'arse', but here in Australia, it refers to a different, more intimate area. And that should tell you all you need to know about that particular club.

The second place wasn't so bad. I mean, it had karaoke, at least. But I think one more rendition of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' may have led me to kill myself.

What's the point of this story?

Today, I was really, really tired for my piano lesson.

Enthralling, huh?