A night at the Clarence
I used to be a bar wench at the fine establishment in my city called the Clarence Corner. It is an old pub from 1889 (well, old by Aussie standards) and had a LOT of regulars. An old man pub by day asnd a live music venue by night, the patrons were always interesting. I've made a lot of excellent friends there, including meeting Mr Chicken.

Hell, where do I start? Alcoholic managers, snorting various drugs off the bar after close, doing tequila shots with backpackers, one particularly drunken local doing a naked rain dance when the drought broke, punks getting into fights, people shagging in the dining room, drug deals in the beer garden or even in the middle of the bar, smoking J's in the beer garden, unstable barmaids having nervous breakdowns in the middle of the night, dressing up as a ninja and staying in costume when I worked Halloween night... I could write a novel about this stuff, but I'll pick my favourite night at work.

It had been an obscenely busy night at work and me and my manager Aiden finally closed up. Another barchick, Lara, and another manager, Ben, were there on their night off. They had been drinking together all night and were pretty smashed by then. To be quite honest, I think Aiden and I were pretty smashed by then too. Aiden was fond of "staff meetings", which involved yelling "Staff meeting in the cold room now!" to be greeted by a line of Jagerbombs.

So we closed the bar and helped ourselves to a knockoff beer. Ben and Lara stumbled in and turned up the music. Ben switched on some Sufjan Stevens and we waltzed around for a while.

A group of random kids were banging on the door outside, trying to get in.

"We're closed!" we yelled. "Piss off!"

But they would just not go away. They were determined to get into the pub, and all we wanted to do was drink all the booze.

After a few minutes, Lara leapt off her barstool and ran over to the door. She promptly turned around and pulled down her pants. The group outside were treated to the sight of Lara's white arse shaking at them in the silvery moonlight. After a while, Lara pulled her pants up and leapt onto the pool table, where she danced the night away like some alcoholic nymph pixie.

It was then decided that we should try the Cointreau challenge. This involves taking a shot of Cointreau in your mouth and swishing it around like mouthwash. The person who has it in the longest is the winner!

Ben was too drunk to figure it out and merely drank it instead. We tried a few more times but then gave up. Lara was the first to bail. It was left to Aiden and me. We went on for ages. The Cointreau was burning the insides of my mouth but I was gonna win, goddammit! Aiden finally ran off to spew up his guts and I won. My prize was a high five. Ben passed out on the pool table. Aiden and I slurped on more beers.

It was getting late, the sun was rising and the cleaning man was about to come in, so Aiden drove us back to his place (note: drink driving is very stupid. don't do it). Lara and I carried Ben back to the car.

Halfway back to Aiden's place, Ben made some awful noises. We stopped so he could vomit out ten thousand litres of booze. Too late we realised that we had stopped outside of a police station. Ah crap.

I woke up the next morning at Aiden's house to Lara running around in her underpants, Ben curled up next to me on the couch and snoring without his pants on and Aiden giggling at The Mighty Boosh. Ben's pants were off because he'd fallen into a pond. Lara and I had decided to take off his pants because they were wet.

I wish my boss wasn't such a crackheaded twat because then I wouldn't have wanted to quit. Though it hasn't been cool like that for a while. I'll miss that place.
(TheChicken Five hundred thousand points from Gryffindor, Sat 7 Feb 2009, 1:13, Reply)