Australia: A Fighting Culture with a Drinking Problem

Well kids, it's Monday morning and I am in the office, so, blogs to post about the weekend.

Mark and I went out Friday to a place called Chalk Bar which is between our house and the Cricket/Footy grounds and has live music on Friday nights. By live music, I mean Then Again style covers with Hangge Uppee music over the speakers during the set breaks. If only the bar didn't feel like Elm Street Liquors instead of Hangge Uppee, I would have felt completely at home. Also, Friday nights are also $4 Carona's. See the blog about prices because that is a "Drink Special".

As we walked, we quickly realized that Google Map will tell you how to get to a place, but does not show elevation. If you have seen the pictures on Facebook of the hills around our place, they are not small and are far from flat.

Anyway, we survive that debacle and make it to the bar after an extended journey. We find a table right off the dance floor, get a beer and a jager bomb (Miss you all) and start to scout the talent, when this dude comes from ten feet across the dance floor and blind sides another dude with a punch square to the nose. Just when things settle down from that, I turn around to see a broad that is maybe 5'4" literally jumping and punching a dude that is 6'5" in the face and no one is in any hurry to break up the situation. In a stark departure from my normal bar behavior, I moved away from the situation, drank my beer and watched. It took three bouncers to control her. Later in the night, I left two beers on the table, went to the bathroom and returned to Mark standing there with ONE of the FOUR beers that he and I had on the table. The explanation: "Dude, you missed three more good fights break out. I saved one of the beers." "Thanks".

Given that the music reminded me of two of my favorite things from Chicago, it was only logical that I grab a cougar and start dancing. Mark, being the champion that he is, pulled a Joe-ma and jumped on the grenade. Including, exchanging numbers and inviting them back to our place. He was unsuccessful in his attempt to get them back to our place and the bar closed about 2am.

As we went outside to get a Taxi, one of the bouncers was flagging down taxis. As I am starting to be impressed because the bouncer has gotten in the cab to explain something to the cab driver, he throws the door open, yells, "go fuck yourself then", slams the door and kicks the cab as the perfectly empty cab speeds away. When Mark questioned this logic, I thought the bouncer was going to punch him.

And that's Friday folks.