Confessions of an S&M Virgin by Linda Jaivin

Author:Linda Jaivin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Essays
ISBN: 9781921799945
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2012-06-21T04:00:00+00:00

Finally, it's official. It is a wake. The mourners file into the hall. Evan, Chris and Dallas are back, together with Justin Owen, the president of the Sydney University Liberal Club, the members of which are careful to distinguish it from the Young Liberals, whom I take it are a lot more hardcore. Dallas is less aggro, more subdued now. Justin thinks Rolling Stone could become a ‘great publication’ if it would just get rid of its bias against the right. Chris puts on his Ray Bans and, while I'm listening to Justin, starts tracing the spider pattern on my tights with his finger. Chris is cheeky.

Another young Liberal cottons onto the fact that I'm working for Rolling Stone and makes a cross with two fingers, as in, go away, you vampire. I waggle my garlic earrings at him. ‘Do you really believe that stuff?’ gasps one of the women.

It's now that the heavies order Chris and Evan and the others not to speak to me. Evan says, nervously, ‘You'd better move away. We'll get into trouble if you keep talking to us.’

Chris bristles. ‘What is this, Fascism?’ he wonders. ‘Are we in Nazi Germany or what? I'm a law student at Sydney Uni. I can't believe someone's telling me who I can and can't talk to.’

I stay. Meanwhile, the Labor supporter at my other side is in full rhetorical flight, heaping scorn on Evan and Chris and finally on me for refusing to stop talking to them. He even accuses me of having switched sides.

Some of the journos are peeling off for drinks. While I'm very happy that Labor won, I'm not in the mood for gloating. I ask Chris and Evan if they want to party on. They're a tad apprehensive about saying yes. Wouldn't any party I took them to be a Labor supporters' function?

Probably, I answer. You guys game?

What if they don't let us in?

Then, I tell them, I won't go in either. As it turns out, the party I thought would be a rage is rather subdued and we no sooner get there than we decide to split.

Throwing caution and possibly a future in the Liberal Party to the wind, they take me back to the Intercontinental where their club members were conducting a post-mortem. We get there just in time to see the gathering break up. We're spotted by the woman who'd ordered Chris and Evan not to speak to me at all. She shoots them a seriously hostile look as she drives off. They shrug. We join a small group of their friends to look for a place to have a drink. Chris lives with his parents and it is getting late, so he leaves.

As the rest of us stroll into the Regent, Evan nudges me. ‘I love this place. It's so capitalist,’ he chuckles. I take out my notebook for the last time in that long evening. ‘Oh, you're not writing that down, are you?’ he groans.

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