Brewed Boy flashback: 2006. Suburban Brisbane, Australia. Brewed Boy is a carpenter. He is at a bbq with his colleagues…
Boss: “That John Howard’sa cunt hey?”
Chorus of “Bloody oath! Too right! Total ripper of a cunt!”
Me: “I know! What he is trying to get away with in the AWB wheat scandal is a disgrace!”
Boss’s mate: “Shut the fuck up you pommy wanker.”
I really don’t care about John Howard or whether Australia was paying kick backs to mustachioed Iraqi dictators. Point is I have never been good at blokey banter and now I am on the frontline and am constantly getting shit shot at me. I just don’t know how to shoot back.
While I’m setting up in the morning the bin men always hit me with one of these:
“Two sugars in mine please mate. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha snort ha ha.”
“10,000 lattes please mate. Bwah ha ha ha ha ha”
I come back with something like “I’m going to have to take a ten percent down payment.” The guffaws turn to smiles. I can tell I have ruined the game.