Advice Part 80- "Funny" T-shirts

I am probably the last person on earth who should be offering fashion advice, given that my usual "after hours" attire typically consists of a pair of filthy black tracksuit pants, an old jumper of my father's which is now too small for him, and ugg boots (no, not the designer type- rather, the cheap kind from the House of Targét).

But there is one piece of fashion wisdom which I feel I simply MUST impart to all young players out there, namely, that "funny" T-shirts (by which I mean shirts printed with "hilarious" slogans, typically of a sexist nature or related to alcohol consumption- note to self, must stop using " "s) are best avoided. At ALL costs.

How do I know this? Read on.....

This morning, on the way to work, I was waiting at the bus stop at Railway Square, when a youngish guy approached, wearing a slogan T-shirt. What exactly did this work of wisdom say? I present it below....

The guy wearing the shirt obviously thought it was pretty funny, as he had it proudly displayed. But maybe it's just me, but I tend to think that people who have to boast about a) their copious alcohol consumption, and b) their "high standards" in regards to potential partners, probably aren't a) drinking very much at all, or b) having much success with the ladies.

But today's shirt isn't by ANY means the worst of its kind. In fact, it hardly rates in the "hey, look at me! I'm such a wannabe playa" stakes. Those who are really playing to win would best consider a delightful "Game Over" shirt (see below- note heart location! Chortle, chortle...).

Or they could opt for my own personal favourite, the "F.B.I.- Female Body Inspector." If the slogan itself isn't bad enough, it comes emblazoned on a "wife beater" tank top, for the ultimate high-class look.....(sorry, the sarcasm is being dispensed with a trowel today).

I'm not trying to institute fashion policing- heaven forbid. But I REALLY wonder at the mentality of people who think that something like this actually looks good. All I can say is, never underestimate the appeal of a plain T-shirt.....

Advice Part 63- My wine bar fantasy

One of my worst traits (and yes, there are many bad ones) is that I have a REAL problem with my endless pursuit of “wild flights of fancy” and “hare-brained schemes.”

In the past year, for example, I have SERIOUSLY considered

a)      Hosting a Pedro Almodóvar film festival

b)      Moving to Spain to teach English

c)       Quitting my job and writing a novel

My advice to young players is that idle daydreaming is all very well and good, but it’s best to realise that sometimes, fantasies are best left in the ethereal realm....

How do I know this? Read on....

A few months ago, I was walking through my suburb when I saw that a shop was up for lease. And, needless to say, my imagination immediately began running riot. This was the ABSOLUTELY PERFECT opportunity for me to OPEN MY OWN, PRIVATE BAR! Just think of it.....

• I wouldn’t need to commute to work- I’d just walk up the street.
• I could have a few drinks ON THE HOUSE and not have to catch a cab home.
• I would never have to worry about horrible music, as I’d be controlling the tunes
• I’d have a legitimate excuse for foraging around in second hand shops, searching for furniture
• AND I could spend DAYS coming up with a suitably witty name for the establishment

I got so excited about this that (I hate to say it) I actually contacted the real estate agent, asking how much the rent was.

It was only then that I started to realise that this was an absolutely ridiculous plan because....

• I don’t have any money
• The rent was $65,000 a year (plus costs). And that’s not even considering the money needed for hiring staff, fitting the place out, and ordering stock
• I have NEVER worked in a bar, so I’d have no idea how to make even the simplest drink
• I am not a “night person”, which is a bit of a problem if your establishment’s key trading hours are in the evening
• AND last (but not least) I wasn’t able to think of a single witty name, let alone a selection....

Consequently, the wine bar was placed on the proverbial “back burner.”

But I’m confident in the knowledge that in a few months, I’ll probably have another equally impractical and unachievable mission occupying my time.....

Advice Part 58- Neighbours

Interesting fact- before I moved into my current apartment, I had only ever lived in houses. And this suited me just fine. I liked living in a self-contained place, with a garden, where I had the freedom to do what I liked within my own fences.

But apartment living is VERY different.

My advice to apartment-dwelling young players is that it is prudent to remember that there are other people VERY CLOSE BY if you decide to partake in unusual outdoor activities.

How do I know this? Read on.....

On Saturday, I decided to make a tiramisu. As we all know, I'm rubbish at cooking, so before I started my epic kitchen adventure, I decided to go for a walk to psych myself up. On the way back from said walk, I saw a sign in the vet's surgery saying "We want your old newspaper! Donations needed ASAP" with a picture of a sad looking cat beside it.

How could I resist such a plea for help? Answer: I couldn't

I had, however, already emptied my newspapers into my apartment block's bin, which meant that I would have to do a bit of a "bin raid" to get them back.

Still, no biggie.

However, I forgot about the newspapers the second I got home, and instead started merrily making the tiramisu. And (perhaps unsurprisingly) I decided I'd have to do a bit of "quality control testing" on the sherry used in the dessert. So I grabbed the nearest cup (the measuring jug I'd been using to whisk the eggs), and poured out an ample measure.

It was at this moment, whilst slurping sherry out of the measuring cup, that I remembered the papers. Fearing I'd forget about them again, I headed outside, drink in hand, and started digging around in the bin, tossing suitable papers over my shoulder, whilst taking sips from the cup and smacking my lips.

 

It was only when I turned around that I discovered my neighbour there. She had been watching me THE WHOLE TIME, and was looking absolutely horrified. After all, I was

• Drinking before midday
• Using a filthy measuring cup as my beverage receptacle AND
• Spending a copious amount of time foraging in the communal bin.

Oh dear. 

I gave her a friendly wave, but she quickly headed back inside, clearly believing I was mad.

Maybe I should take up dumpster diving for an encore?

Advice Part 43- How to behave on holidays

With my long-awaited trip to Spain almost upon me (I leave tomorrow night!), now seems an opportune time to pass on some handy advice on what sort of behaviour is (or isn't) appropriate when travelling to a foreign land.

My advice to young players is that if you are overseas, and are suddenly swept up in a wave of Australian patriotism, it is best to resist this urge, and instead head back to your hotel for a quiet night.

How do I know this? Read on.....

When I was 23, I went on a trip to South East Asia. Being a far from adventurous traveller (nothing much has changed here!), I decided to book a small group tour. And by a weird twist of fate, all the other members of the group were from Australia and New Zealand.....

Hmm.

All went well (or as well as it could, given that the humidity was about 110%, and there wasn't a day under 35 degrees) until the final evening of the tour, when Sam (one of the guys in the group) suggested we all go on a "wild Aussie/Kiwi night out" in Chiang Mai.

Oh dear.

This is what happened:

• We got attired in our  "Aussie tourist wear". This consisted of $3 "Same same but different" T-shirts bought from the markets, shorts and thongs.

• Sam flagged down two tuk tuks, and asked the drivers if they would engage in a race down the main street of Chiang Mai, bribing them with "danger money" if they agreed. Which they did. 

• Following a terrifying ride, we screeched to a halt outside a cheap pub, which had just closed for the night.
• In a show of Western cultural imperialism, we proceeded to gesture frantically through the window, so that the owner would re-open the establishment. Which they did.
• Instead of ordering beers or something equally easy, it was resolved that we all have Long Island Iced Teas, which take an ETERNITY to make. Especially when there's 12 people waiting.....

• In the final coup de grâce, one of the other members of the group requested the owner of the pub put on Khe Sanh (I shudder even writing this!) so that we could sing along with Barnesy and make TOTAL idiots of ourselves. 

All we needed for a REALLY yobbo-ish (yobbish???) night out was an Australian flag to wear as a cape, and a few XXXXs.

Let me assure you, I won't be taking any such items to Spain.

Advice Part 42- The IDEAL job for single men is....

In the course of my (seemingly unending) singledom, I have made more than a few trips to the liquor store, to purchase some alcoholic beverages with which to drown my proverbial sorrows.

But it was only yesterday that I reached the following monumental conclusion.....

My advice to young players is that if you are a single male, looking to find a partner, first find yourself a job in a liquor store.

How do I know this? Read on.....

Yesterday afternoon, I went to a very civilised garden party in Rozelle. This required a trip to the bottle shop in the morning in order to stock up on appropriate liquid beverages.

As we all know, Sunday morning is not exactly peak alcohol buying time, so when I entered the liquor store, I was the only customer there. I picked up a few bottles of cider, and headed to the counter to pay.

All was going as per usual.

When I produced my wallet, I made some banal conversation with the (not unattractive) guy behind the counter. And when I say banal, I MEAN banal- "Gee, it isn't too busy here today, is it?"

The guy then proceded to (completely and utterly unasked):

• demonstrate the store's new-fangled gas machine, which means it is possible to keep a bottle of red wine open for a month without it going off (!!!)

• describe why some people go red in the face after one glass of wine (apparently it's an allergic reaction to preservatives) (!!!)
• show me every other bottle of cider under the sun, and give me extensive notes on the differences between brands (!!!)
• explain why the "ready to drink" alcopops are stored where they are (so the sales assistant can monitor the underage drinkers coming in to buy them)

• ask me about the party I was going to that afternoon (!!!)

He talked to me for over 30 minutes, and the conversation only ended when some other customers (!!!!!) arrived.

These customers were also single ladies.

But this REALLY got me thinking.....

I know of AT LEAST two other single female friends who have been "interested" in men who work in the local bottle shop. And I wouldn't be opposed to making another visit back to my store to have a further chat with the attractive guy. Although I don't want to go back too soon, in case he thinks I'm an alcoholic who needs to "stock up" on drinks every day or two***.....

But I swear, if you are a single man, looking to meet ladies, you could do A LOT worse than working in a bottle shop....

***NOTE Any hints on what I should do here are WARMLY welcome! Should I go back? And if I do, how can I "casually" find out if he's single (without looking seedy)? Also, do men who work in liquor stores get staff discounts? Advice wanted!

Advice Part 40- Fun things to do on Friday nights

I have recently finished a period of "temporary temperance", in which I have been avoiding imbibing any alcoholic substances AT ALL.

This has necessitated a few changes to my typical Friday night routine. Now, rather than heading to the pub, I am more likely to be found doing my grocery shopping.

Thrilling, I know.

My advice to young players is that this has NOT been a bad thing- rather, late night grocery shopping is often more fascinating that ANYTHING you'll see in a bar.

Case in point. Last Friday, at 9:45pm, I realised I had yet to do my shopping, and so I headed up the road to Franklins to buy some milk and eggs. I then joined the queue to pay.

All was fine and dandy.

But then a- how do I say it?-"somewhat inebriated" elderly gentleman entered the store. He lurched down the first aisle, and began a swerving journey towards the rear of the shop.

Five minutes later, I felt a shove in the back, as the elderly drunk pushed past me, and made a lunge for the exit. He had clearly decided that he couldn't be bothered lining up and paying, and had simply shoved a whole collection of chocolate bars down his T-shirt.

And he wasn't just stealing one or two. He must have had AT LEAST 20 in there.

Needless to say, this didn't go unnoticed, and the following conversation ensued.

• Cashier One (yelling to Cashier Two): Hey, Josh! Stop this guy! He's stealing stuff!

• Cashier Two (looking a bit frightened): Umm, sure. (Addressing the drunk) Excuse me, sir. Can I ask what you have up your shirt?

• Drunk (inaudible muttering, then....): Nothing!!!

• Cashier One (getting very excited): He's lying, Josh! He's lying!

• Cashier Two: Sir, I can see a chocolate bar poking out of your shirt. And why have you got your arms folded like that?

• Drunk: (expletives aplenty)

• Cashier Two (pleading): Come on, sir. Please. What have you got up your shirt?

• Drunk (triumphantly): Nothing! I'm having a baby! I'm pregnant!

• Cashier Two (shocked silence, then.....): I am so happy for you. And you have come to the right place-I'm a doctor, and I'm going to deliver your baby! Ooh, I can see it coming out now!

At this stage, he approached the drunk, who looked completely horrified. The light fingered gent promptly let go of his bundle, and made a run for the exit, as the chocolate bars cascaded out of his shirt.

I definitely know where I'll be going for Friday night entertainment in future.

Advice Part 20- Drunk Dialling

Aah, the telephone. What more valuable communication tool can one have in one's arsenal?

My advice to young players is that whilst mobile phone communication is all well and good, there are certain times when you should NEVER, EVER decide to call.

More precisely, you should NOT ring if

1. You are intoxicated/inebriated/drunk/a bit tipsy/smashed/whatever other term you wish to use to describe a state of having consumed excessive alcohol
2. You don't actually have anything to say
3. It is after midnight
4. You have been avoiding making the call sober
5. ALL of the above apply

Case in point. I had what could best be termed a very "sociable" Saturday. I went to a housewarming party in the afternoon (which adjourned to the pub), and then went to another pub to watch the rugby.

By 11 o'clock, I had been "celebrating" for a grand total of 6 hours, and was, how shall I say it, "somewhat merry."

Understatement of the century.

Somehow (thank god), I resisted the urge to party on at karaoke, and resolved to head home instead.

But when I arrived at my place, I decided it was a FANTASTIC time to make a phone call which I had been putting off making ALL WEEK, because my sober self had decided that calling this person was NOT a good idea.

Oh. Dear.

So, I called the number.

I got the voicemail and left a message along the lines of : "Hey......Umm, it's me.......Aah, err, how are you?........(long pause)......Yeah, I, I've, aah, decided to give you a call (even longer pause)......Oh god, whoops, I don't have anything to say (uproarious laughter).....So, umm, hello.....Hope it's going well for you......(muffled fumbling as I try to hang up)....Bye."

Needless to say, I DID NOT get a call back.

I have decided in future that the only number I will be calling after midnight is that of the taxi to take me home.