Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Existential despair

On Monday I went for a pint with two great friends from work. In the corner of the pub sat two people, drinks long finished, locked into intense conversation over a laptop. I am nosy, so on the way out I glanced at what they were doing. They were completing a self-assessment quality assurance report, a lengthy activity designed by enemies of the people in order to achieve nothing. Has it come to this? Useless toil polluting a place of pleasure? No ... please no.

3 comments:

Will said...

First they came for the smokers...

Pubs are a waste of time nowadays -- full of tosspot kids chucking the latest shitty, trendy crap doon their necks or full of twats who don't smoke and like taking ten hours to drink a pint. And I haven't even started on the prices.

Another great working class institution completely fucking ruines by wankers.

Graeme said...

The absolute worst example of this happened here in Montreal at the end of last summer. I went to a bar (we don't do pubs very well here in Canada) with a group of friends. There were about a dozen of us, and we took up a cluster of empty tables--though not quite enough. There was a guy drinking alone at an adjacent table and he had his computer out and was playing World of Warcraft or something like that. There was another empty table nearby and we asked if he'd like to move to it so we could have his. He refused, and nursed his pint for a couple of hours while plonking away at his stupid computer game. He then had the nerve to complain to the server that we were being too loud. Keeping in mind that this was a Saturday night at a bar. What a fucking twat.

Ann ODyne said...

They opened a laptop in a ... PUB ?
idiots.
they self assessed themselves by the very act.
it wasn't that bloody briggs meyer thing?

I have a fondness for pub culture.
There is a reason historically for their existence-
its where you go when the whistle blows.
All the best ones are adjacent to big factories
(I am speaking historically here)

but the whistle doesn't blow anymore.

The goldrush town of 1852 Ballarat Victoria had a pub for every 60 men before any proper housing was established. After cashing in their days work before it was stolen from them, they had nothing else in a tent town in the middle of nowhere to spend the money on except booze.
Refrigeration was developed at that time by a Scot in Ballarat; the state of Victoria gave the world winecasks and ringpulls.
we're good with booze here.
cheers!