Pub Life.

I worked in a pub while I was acquittance to school. I was 17 back then. I dont know how I made it, but I got hired. First of all, I didnt encounter any experience at all. Second, I lied that I was 18. It was good because I could work a lot of hours over the weekend and at nights while studying during the day.

Since leaving in 2003, I have been back there (for a beer, not to work) on only a few occasions. No, I didnt get at kicked out because they found out about my age from my accessible security number, they let off thought I was 18. Its just that you gotta be 21 to actually touch alcohol. I mean fashioning martinis and just drinks. But there are a brace of things that I have learnt besides making jack daniels and coke, campari, and cosmopolitan.

Firstly, cipher changes: I was amazed at the number of faces that are still going there (more worse for wear than when I worked there). I havent changed that much but most only a dull recollection of who I am, although I was their source of sustenance for 3 months. Probably a combination of beat and alcohol. I mobilise them, and their favorite ale.

Secondly, people in bars all over the country are the same, only the faces are different. Every time I go into a bar I pile up another Bob the car salesman that sneaks in for a supple beer on his way home, Fred the builder that has no life outside work and the pub, the old granny that comes in on tribute day to blow the weeks pay on pokies, the has-been rugby player, the young know-it-all that thinks hes fantastic (but will end up being the next Bob),

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