Thursday, June 21, 2007


its been a meh week. Nick's been on holidays recuperating from his Paris Hilton incident (see previous post) and Lize and I are filling his shifts while both suffering from vague maladies and general malaise. I'm sick of the sight of the bar to be honest and when I copped a dose of the squits tonight went home when I probably should have stayed. Of course the phone's run hot since - the ladies shitters backed up, 13 uninvited VIPs from JB HiFi turned up (Rachel from Universal said it was fine, honest) and the bands ran 1/2 an hour late. Still I think Lize has made it thru ok and and the numbers so far seem good. Lize tells me Nick's back on the sauce God love him so I guess he's feeling less guilty than last week.

I've worked in bars since 1996 now and Í'm going thru one of those phases when I question why we bother. It sure as fuck isn't for the money - we're way poorer than we were before we opened this one. You're taxed to bejusus, pay every possible levy, permit, insurance, licence fee and every other government sponsored shakedown and every quarter the price of wholesale alcohol increases. Meanwhile discount liquor chains punt out take away booze at loss leader prices that make drinking in pubs plain uneconomic for the kids (or anyone else for that matter). The price I pay at the brewery for a case of VB is $2.50 dearer than the public pay at Dan Murphy's. It makes it tough I tells ya. And before anyone beseiges me with greedy publican stories I know most of them - I run a band venue and drive a ten year old Barina that is battered to buggery so I feel exempt.

The catch is that I'm probably not qualified for anything else so I'm stuck here I suppose. And I know the day I do quit the moaning will start - why don't bands come to our town/we've got nowhere safe to drink/k****** was awesome why did it shut yada yada......

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