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Saturday 17 May 2014

Go out to get drunk and came home sober....

Well this going to be a short blog....a very short blog. A very short and serious moan about good reason to be served an alcoholic drink before those twenty other people you bloody well served before me yet got to the bar after me.

Well, all dressed up to the nine pins and off I trundle down to the club for night out at the rugby club presentation to see my son's end of season presentation. How was I to know that every parent there would be propping up the bar vying for the attention of club president's wife as she valiantly pulled pints, sorted out new kegs, looked for glasses, had to take money, supplied kids with sweets and sugary substances.

Yes the crowd was several deep, arms outstretched, wallets, purses and notes waving about as if all had never seen an alcoholic drink in ages. It was like an auction or more apt a bloody wall of savage beasts, screaming, shouting, pushing, rudely waving their dosh in the barmaid's face saying over and over "me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me!"

Now, I do as every other savage beast does on the hunt or prowl for food. I no where the kill is or the prey, it's behind the bar, comes out of a tap, which is fed by a tube, which is attached to the keg in the cellar. Yep, and as soon as you find yourselves wanting or needing a night out in such a place, your drinking well, that has so overwhelmingly become popular with every other beast, then you go into survival mode.

You look for a gap, jostle with the crowd, determined to get there before them. You then shout for service, like "can I have a fucking beer you moron cos I was here first before all these other twots" and when they come to you all one can blurt out is "oh he was before me".

Well, that's life! amen.

Heck, I had just lost the opportunity to get served, had given my chance to someone else...what a fool was I, cos that just had a domino effect and instead of serving me next went to someone else and so on and so I came home sober pretty much.

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