Working in a pub
On monday and Tuesday nights I work in a pub,and I really ought to start writing down some of the shit that goes off in that place,for example...The day we ran out of A certain australian brand of beer
large sign on bar reads
"fosters will be off untill tomorrow" accompanied by a bar towel over the pump.
you would have thought that would be enough to discourage people from asking for fosters,however it would appear 98% of fosters drinkers are not only lightweight wheeling piss sippers,but theyre also pretty much illiterate aswell!who would have fucking belived it eh?
Anyway once Id finally got the message accross that there was infact no fosters,which really was no where near as simple as it sounds for these goobers the majority of the dingo piss sippers were convinced that for one night only it would be a good idea to drink different lager (this entire process which any normal person would have managed in about 70 seconds had taken half an hour,and thats with at least ten of them working on it...for fucks sake)
Enter stage left a considerably nicer tasting (but much stronger) beverage.
with the benefit of hindsight I may have been better reccomending carling as a fosters substitute, but the entertainment value of the entire group getting a fuckload more drunk than theyre used to on the same amount of beer,and the fear on their little faces as they contemplated what the fuck their mansized missus was going to do to them when they got home,it was priceless,really.
Im not sure whether it was the combination of wankeredness and worriedness,or just good old fashioned hooliganisim,but they al ended up leathering seven shades of shit out of each other,three seperate wives turned up on the doorstep and practically dragged incoherent husbands out the door by their receeding hairlines punches were exchanged inside and outside the bar,glasses broken,kids upset and wives furious,other customers were scared shitless and the ones that werent joined in and were either the beaten of the beater.I hear that one mans wife was so pissed off with him he had to sleep in the garden shed.
Because of last nights events I doubt any of them that have their other halves to contend with will be allowed out tonight and theyll be pissed off because fosters is back on today,and theyve got to stay home reading bedtime stories to the little ones and watching telly with their sourfaced hard done by womenfolk!
all because I couldnt be arsed to tell them that the beer they were drinking was stronger than their usual tipple.
How crazy am I?
large sign on bar reads
"fosters will be off untill tomorrow" accompanied by a bar towel over the pump.
you would have thought that would be enough to discourage people from asking for fosters,however it would appear 98% of fosters drinkers are not only lightweight wheeling piss sippers,but theyre also pretty much illiterate aswell!who would have fucking belived it eh?
Anyway once Id finally got the message accross that there was infact no fosters,which really was no where near as simple as it sounds for these goobers the majority of the dingo piss sippers were convinced that for one night only it would be a good idea to drink different lager (this entire process which any normal person would have managed in about 70 seconds had taken half an hour,and thats with at least ten of them working on it...for fucks sake)
Enter stage left a considerably nicer tasting (but much stronger) beverage.
with the benefit of hindsight I may have been better reccomending carling as a fosters substitute, but the entertainment value of the entire group getting a fuckload more drunk than theyre used to on the same amount of beer,and the fear on their little faces as they contemplated what the fuck their mansized missus was going to do to them when they got home,it was priceless,really.
Im not sure whether it was the combination of wankeredness and worriedness,or just good old fashioned hooliganisim,but they al ended up leathering seven shades of shit out of each other,three seperate wives turned up on the doorstep and practically dragged incoherent husbands out the door by their receeding hairlines punches were exchanged inside and outside the bar,glasses broken,kids upset and wives furious,other customers were scared shitless and the ones that werent joined in and were either the beaten of the beater.I hear that one mans wife was so pissed off with him he had to sleep in the garden shed.
Because of last nights events I doubt any of them that have their other halves to contend with will be allowed out tonight and theyll be pissed off because fosters is back on today,and theyve got to stay home reading bedtime stories to the little ones and watching telly with their sourfaced hard done by womenfolk!
all because I couldnt be arsed to tell them that the beer they were drinking was stronger than their usual tipple.
How crazy am I?
posted by bornunder at 11:03 AM
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