Piss-Up In A Brewery
I was invited to the launch of a new beer at a local brewery. Free beer all night. Free food and entertainment. A dream come true!
I arrived early, dangling my party pass at a group of tourists on a brewery tour. They must have thought I was a local celeb attending an exclusive bash. I felt very hip.
I rushed towards the loud music and aroma of sweet, fresh brew. Huge illuminated cases of icy beer filled every corner. “Try our new beer!” beamed a bikini-clad blonde as she thrust her hand into the ice and pulled out a chilled bottle. Forget the feminist implications of this sexist PR tactic, I thought, this chick has free booze.
A large buffet table groaning with crudités, nachos and unidentifiable cheesy things was beckoning. Ignoring the more nutritious offerings, I dived straight into the chips and cheesy things. It was plentiful and free.
Two hours and five beers later I was still going strong. Beer tasted so much sweeter when it was free. But the bikini-clad girl’s smile had turned to a grimace. She was probably wishing everyone would go home. All right, she had to stand next to a freezer in her undies all night, but the beer wouldn’t open itself, would it?
Five hours and an unknown number of beers later I was struggling. I couldn’t leave – there were still bottles in the case, swimming amongst the melting ice cubes. Bikini girl was nowhere to be seen. The buffet was empty except for the crudités.
I chewed on a raw carrot but my stomach required grease to hold down the beer. I had to pee for the eighth time in an hour. My hazy brain reminded me I had work in the morning. I would leave, but I couldn’t stand up. The carrot was threatening a comeback. I never wanted to see another bottle of beer again. I had learned my lesson.
Annoyingly, I’ve just been invited to an exclusive party at a cocktail bar. I don’t want to appear ungrateful so I will just pop my head round the door and say hello. Maybe just one little drink…