LOUIS BURKE | Culture | CONTACT
A local RSL must be doing it tough right now after serving up an absolute scabfest of a pour with a full centimetre of air between the boxed wine and the rim of the glass.
Before the gut-pinching universal price hike that we should all blame on Putin or Saul Goodman or whoever, RSLs were known for pouring wine at generous quantities not typically associated with Australian alcohol service laws.
However, the Betoota Emu War RSL has breached the unspoken folk-lorien understanding that exists between goon orderer and goon pourer by serving up a conversative pour so un-Australian it’s searching for a two bedder in Dunedin.
“Seriously, look at this crap,” gestured one scammed wine drinker, holding a glass that looked like she’d already taken a decent quaff from.
“I’m about to die of thirst.”
At the time of writing, possible reasons for the new pissy pouring procedures include money saving measures, an inevitable goon shortage or because after 30 years Shazza has finally had enough of everyone’s shit.
“There’s still more wine in here than any of you deserve,” stated team member Sharron, who appeared to have painted her lipstick in a distinct frowning shape.
“Times are tough and you’re all weak. Your weakness is alcohol and I’m exploiting it. Sorry but that’s too fucking bad. You can’t always get what you want but you can never get what you want. Whether it’s a standard pay rise or just one shift when someone asks how you’re doing and doesn’t tune out as soon as you start answering. Have you ever realised how pointless life really is? If that’s how pointless things are when we are walking around and allegedly living, then how much point is there to death? Surely death is even more pointless than your already pointless life. All of us die but not all of us live. So yes, I am pouring less wine than usual. If you have any complaints, take it up with the good that made you a neurotic fool beset on their own destruction.”
