There’s something about a warm Friday afternoon that gives you this overwhelming urge to drink beer (Not Fosters!) I was sitting at my desk looking out the window enjoying a pleasant scene in my head. (You will have to imagine the hazy squiggles that take you from me gazing out the window to the next scene)
I’m sitting outside somewhere on the grass, with the Barbie smoking away, giving off wonderful smells of half cooked Beef Steaks (Mm), Pork Sausages (Mmm), Chicken Fillets covered in BBQ sauce (Mmmm) and Mutton Chops (Eh?! – Oh well). There are a gang of us enjoying the weather, beer and soon food. I take a swig of my beer, when I hear someone talking at me across the way. Straining to hear what they want I lean forward and…thud! Slip off my chair and land on my knees back in the office…damn!! I haven’t even tried the food yet!
Having ruined the vision I turn back to my computer and work again. By 4pm I’m still longing for a cold beer and decide it’s time to take action…so call an old mate (Nyree) and a babysitter (My parents – bless them!) and it’s a date in the Vic* at 7pm. This turns into 7:30 for me and (as I’m soon to discover) Nyree is also late! So I sit at the bar, like a plank, on my own. Luckily the Vic natives are friendly to strangers and I soon find myself in conversation and being offered drinks from people around the bar. Nyree eventually rolls in at 8:30!! Just in time for the folk night…quick let’s get out of here! (Don’t get me wrong they are very talented people, but I have a limit to the amount of country that I let enter my brain).
We head off to Deanos** It’s humming in here and we have to fight our way to the bar. After two more beers I suddenly realize my feet are tapping, which turns into a sway, bop and before long have been dragged onto the dance floor to make an arse of myself. I’m not the best dancer in the world, especially after a few, but thankfully it’s dark and crowded…so I go with the flow and strut (Like John Travolta in Saturday night fever – God help me!)
*The Vic or Victory Bar is a quaint little pub in the centre of town and is the normal haunt for drinks straight after work.
**This is another pub only 100 yards west of the Vic, but is more like a club than a pub and hosts the more pissed folk who like to strut there stuff on the dance floor.
I’m sitting outside somewhere on the grass, with the Barbie smoking away, giving off wonderful smells of half cooked Beef Steaks (Mm), Pork Sausages (Mmm), Chicken Fillets covered in BBQ sauce (Mmmm) and Mutton Chops (Eh?! – Oh well). There are a gang of us enjoying the weather, beer and soon food. I take a swig of my beer, when I hear someone talking at me across the way. Straining to hear what they want I lean forward and…thud! Slip off my chair and land on my knees back in the office…damn!! I haven’t even tried the food yet!
Having ruined the vision I turn back to my computer and work again. By 4pm I’m still longing for a cold beer and decide it’s time to take action…so call an old mate (Nyree) and a babysitter (My parents – bless them!) and it’s a date in the Vic* at 7pm. This turns into 7:30 for me and (as I’m soon to discover) Nyree is also late! So I sit at the bar, like a plank, on my own. Luckily the Vic natives are friendly to strangers and I soon find myself in conversation and being offered drinks from people around the bar. Nyree eventually rolls in at 8:30!! Just in time for the folk night…quick let’s get out of here! (Don’t get me wrong they are very talented people, but I have a limit to the amount of country that I let enter my brain).
We head off to Deanos** It’s humming in here and we have to fight our way to the bar. After two more beers I suddenly realize my feet are tapping, which turns into a sway, bop and before long have been dragged onto the dance floor to make an arse of myself. I’m not the best dancer in the world, especially after a few, but thankfully it’s dark and crowded…so I go with the flow and strut (Like John Travolta in Saturday night fever – God help me!)
*The Vic or Victory Bar is a quaint little pub in the centre of town and is the normal haunt for drinks straight after work.
**This is another pub only 100 yards west of the Vic, but is more like a club than a pub and hosts the more pissed folk who like to strut there stuff on the dance floor.
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