ABOUT five years ago Gable Tostee was banned for the first time from a Surfers Paradise nightclub, substantially reducing his chances of meeting young women.
“The first one was a really big club, one of the most popular,” he wrote online.
“I had an argument on Facebook with some chick who apparently worked as a bartender and she used that position to get me banned.”
By the beginning of 2013 he spoke about being banned from another two clubs by the head security guy who worked for both.
“I won’t lie, over the years I’ve been kicked out of both a few times for looking or acting drunk but never caused any trouble or started any fights or anything serious,” Tostee said.
“I’m not even sure why the security manager has banned me, it could be personal, it could be anything, who knows.”
Despite the increasing number of skyscrapers, Surfers Paradise at night remains a village and regulars like Tostee are well known to staff. He was regarded as different.
In July 2013 he arrived at a new club only to be escorted out by security within five minutes.
“In my city almost everyone my age goes out in town at least every now and then — it’s the local culture — but unfortunately small incidents can be blown out of proportion and getting a bad name can be like wildfire spreading,” he said.
At work, Tostee was mixing with older guys, 35-year-olds who were married. He was not studying, meeting younger people at university.
He had picked up the trade of carpet laying and estimated he was earning about $70 an hour, requiring him to work only four-to-six-hour days. After an afternoon sleep, he would party.
His father was a salesman for a major southeast Queensland flooring provider. Property records show the only property belonging to Gray and Helene Tostee is a $452,000 unit at Carrara.
Gray and Helene had been regular players at the Southport Golf Club where golfers describe the couple as low-maintenance members. Neighbours in the gated estate say they keep to themselves.
Their son rented a unit at the flash Avalon building at the southern end of Cavill Mall, on the 14th floor where views of the Nerang River at night are spectacular.
The labouring job caused Tostee to complain about lacking energy. At 92kg and 1.9m (6’3’’) he talked about the need to work out more, try some squats to build up his legs.
Since he was a student at Somerset College, Tostee had been clever with the latest technology.
He and two other students, two years after graduation, netted about $30,000 from fake 18-plus identification cards aimed at under-age schoolies wanting to visit nightclubs.
Some of the teenagers later confessed and police investigators pinned Tostee as the mastermind. They were stunned to find a perfect reproduction of a $50 bill on his computer.
At the 2006 trial in the Southport District Court, lawyer Bill Potts described his young client as “partially autistic”, having “exceptional skills” in art and drafting and suffering a “large degree of public shaming” following his arrest.
Judge Newton decided to give the three youths a second chance, did not record convictions and left them to pay a fine and complete community service.
He had listened to evidence about Tostee having severe obsessive compulsive disorder and hoped the young man would put his intellectual gifts to better use.
“He has extraordinary talents that must be harnessed in such a manner to ensure the products of his abilities are not illicit,” Judge Newton said in his sentencing remarks.
By 2013, banned from the best clubs, Tostee was on his computer exploring dating apps.
“Rooted about eight chicks off this app last month,” he posted on a bodybuilding chat site.
“Just had a big fail streak over the weekend. Met up with four different chicks, three who came over to my apartment for drinks but were totally frigid.”
The first girl backed off from physical contact, the second needed to focus on studying and the third made an excuse to leave early, he wrote.
“Sick of time/money wasting bitches. Who do they come over and then act completely frigid,” Tostee wrote.
When he finally met a girl who wanted sex, not everything always went to plan. “I just end up getting exhausted after like 30 miss,” he wrote.
By August of that year he was seeking specific advice about dating app Tinder.
“Liked about 30 profiles today. Hopefully will wake up with a match or two. Is there a maximum number of matches you can have?”
On the body building forum, Tostee boasted about having sex with numerous women — the numbers kept climbing, from 150 to 162 and finally “about 180”. He claimed his success rate was on average every five days.
The only consistent theme among his posts was none of these encounters led to a serious relationship.
“Anyone else have this thing where they get bored of sleeping with the one single girl. No matter how hot she is or how much I have feelings for her, nothing satisfies me more than hitting something new,” he wrote.
His supporters included beefed-up male entertainers. He was begging for acceptance with this crowd. “Never been in a serious relationship crew,” he told them.
On the forum in February 2014, he asked for advice after arguing with a woman.
“So I met up with a chick on Tinder Saturday night, we went for a walk, got some dinner then came back to my apartment. We ate then talked for a bit then started kissing on the balcony.
“A few minutes later we were both getting pretty into it so I suggested we go to my room and lie down. She follows me in there and we continue. As soon as I start to make further moves she backs away telling me she should leave soon.”
After copying and pasting the woman’s strong rebuke, others online accused Tostee of being “desperate” and “giving men a bad name”.
“It’s pretty simple bro, girls can actually choose who they want to have sex with, I know crazy right, and you weren’t chosen at that time,” a bloke told him.
Six months later he and Warriena Wright meet on Tinder. Just six hours after arriving in his apartment she plunges 14 floors to her death.
Tostee makes a 3.23am call to his father who picks him up after he leaves his apartment as emergency vehicles arrive. He has ordered a piece of supreme pizza.
“We need to ring Bill Potts,” his father tells him.
Tostee would later post that he was “terrified, exhausted, intoxicated and quite disorientated” and just wanted to get advice. He bought the pizza to curb his hunger and anxiety.
He complains to his dad about being cold. Gray Tostee finally arrives and opens the car door. His son knows the damage to his reputation this time is irreparable.
The overwhelming smell here is of narcissism.
Tostee tells his father: “Why does this always “expletive” happen to me? I didn’t ask for this. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I just invited the girl over.”
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