It’s 3:00pm on a Saturday afternoon and I find myself sharing a bar with a group of people celebrating their Primary School reunion. Which is apparently a thing people do. They all appear to be in their late 40’s/early 50’s and they’re all completely wrecked. Endless waves of Sambuca shots chased by pints of beer will do that to a person.
Because I’m totes sneaky and am always on the lookout for prime blog fodder I accidentally overhear the following quotes which, without the context of 40 years plus of shared experience, all sound somewhat deranged.
Continue reading “The End of the Affair.”
You know there’s a very good reason the chain has been deemed necessary.
Christ. What a grim indictment on our society that the charity tin sitting on the bar needs to be
chained and padlocked to the goddamn beer taps.
Or, from a slightly more abstract viewpoint, perhaps this image exemplifies how our collective hope is intrinsically tethered to beer?
While standing at the bar of one of the many bars I frequent, emanating from somewhere behind me, I overhear a female voice taking part in one half of a phone conversation.
“Ugh. I’m at some bar.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t want to be here, its all, like, dark. And full of weirdos.”
“Ugh. No. I have no idea when we’re leaving.”
“Oh Em Gee, it’s the worst, like, I don’t even know why they wanted to come here.”
“I know! We never go to cool places that I wanna go to.”
Being one of said weirdos in the,
, dark bar, I look over my shoulder to try and steal a glimpse of the dissatisfied orator of this asymmetrical diatribe. like
Continue reading “The Kids Are Alright.”
Today I’d like to share with you a nice little mix of hyper-awareness and neuroticism.
After complimenting my friendly neighbourhood bar-girl with a “
You look really nice today” I then immediately realise how my statement infers she didn’t look nice the day before.
She then responds, “
So I didn’t look nice yesterday?”
I momentarily pause, index finger outstretched and mouth agape like I’m going to keep my charm intact with a clever retort and… no. Nothing comes out. Clever or otherwise.
She laughs and pours me a beer, while I laugh and hope I came across more awkwardly endearing as opposed to a complete and utter social freakshow.