ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
One of the hazards of being a public bar manager is dealing with people trying to sell you things you don’t want or can’t even contractually sell.
That’s according to Dennis O’Leary up at The Gelded Seahorse Hotel in Betoota Heights.
The hospitality professional stood up while our reporter sat down opposite him at the bar this afternoon where O’Leary shared a story from his long and arduous day.
“You should’ve seen the bloke,” Dennis prefixed.
“Big red mop on him, big red beard. The dead eyes of a lapsed Catholic. Gaunt-looking bastard he was, Errol. So anyway, this bloke comes in looking kinda sheepish and whatnot. He slithers up to the bar in these god-awful sneakers and asks to see a manager,”
“I say, ‘You’re looking at one, cowboy,’ and he launches into this pitch about some beer he’s selling for a local craft brewery and so on. I try to get a word in, saying we’re under contract with Lion and don’t have any space but he just keeps going and going,”
“Mate, I don’t even have a say in what beer goes on here. I was about to stop him, Errol, to tell him to take a look around at all the beers on tap here. Ask him if he saw any gypsy juice or butternut bat piss on tap. That the only neck oil we sell by the glass here is mass-produced nectar? But, alas, I didn’t. I took his little sheet of information and gave him a little wave as he walked ou the door.”
Dennis shook his head and continued polishing cutlery from the big tray in front of him.
“He did leave a sample, though. I’m not going to drink it, mate, but feel free to take it home if you want.”
Our reporter smiled and thanked Dennis before splitting the four-pack up and shoving the cans into different pockets of his raincoat.
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More to come.