The White Elephant was packed, and people were drunk. Cody was covering a Merle Haggard song, and Sam was seated at a table wearing a bewildered expression. That’s about when I noticed a curly-haired blonde and a tattooed, short-haired brunette nearby. The former looked like Joan Osborne if Joan Osborne were a “sk8er chick,” and the latter looked like Katy Perry if Katy Perry were a stripper. It turned out that the brunette actually was a stripper.
She shook my hand and said, “I’m Ellie, and she’s Shelly.” I repeated their names; Ellie corrected me. Apparently, Ellie is Australian for Allie, and this gaffe was the first of several phonetic misunderstandings. The pair came from Brisbane, had known each other for 12 years, and had been traveling together for eight months. Shelly went to the bar; Allie told me that her friend was “skeeving,” whatever that meant. I had no way of knowing for sure — sober Australians probably aren’t too hard to understand, but drunk Aussie strippers need closed captioning. Allie made me down a shot of Cuervo, my least favorite drink.
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