ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

Throughout the day, Danny Madigan was led to believe he and the rest of his WhatsApp group would be getting on the beers from about 4 pm today.

So at 4 pm today, the 28-year-old arrived at the Dolphins Leagues Club to find he was the first piece of shit there.

“So I shrugged and got myself a big cold Betoota Bitter; found a quiet nook and whipped the phone out,” he said.

Fifteen minutes passed and still – he was alone – and his first beer was now making its way through his soft, unathletic body.

“And again,” he smiled and nodded toward the barman.

Half an hour passed before Danny felt relaxed and happy enough to fire a message off to the group. He wanted to know if everyone was running on Fiji time this afternoon.

“Just on my way now, mate,” wrote one friend.

“Tommy and I are waiting for a cab uptown. Be like 10 I reckon.”

Another 20 minutes passed and Danny had galloped his way through two more pints and a packet of Red Rock something – honey soy chicken he thinks.

Finally, after four and a half pints of heavy lager, the first gaggle of weak-chinned office people Danny calls friends walked through the door.

They all exchanged their pleasantries – it’d been just under a week since they’d been together like this.

But Danny, unbeknown to the rest of the party, was already pretty lit.

He spoke briefly to our reporter in the smoking area before returning back inside to his friends.

“Man,” he said.

“I’m not going to make it out after this. Either I slow down or I tell them to catch up. I think I might go have a timeout and feed a pineapple through a brickies laptop or something?”

More to come.


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