If this is a good day, I’d hate to see a bad one
WHETHER coincidence or not, it seems every time I forgo my favoured tipple for any length of time I tend to struggle with day-to-day activities.
As explained in last week’s column, I’ve decided to forgo the drink for Lent (note capital “L” after complaints from certain readers berating me for using a lower case “l” last week) in the lead-up to Easter.
Now, whenever I make such sacrifice, the initial reaction from my mates as I turn up at the pub and order a soda water with lemon is: “Soda water? Are you crook, mate?”
Of course, when I explain that I’m fine and that I’m just forgoing the grog for six weeks until Easter, I invariably get the usual response: sideways glances of disbelief as they slowly move to the other end of the bar.
However, being a social leper for six weeks has its benefits, not least in not having to get into a shout with this mob.
But you’d think being 100% sober would lead to a more stable and ordered life… it doesn’t, well, not for me anyway.
Take last weekend. After my couple of soda waters at the pub, I walked home to cook up a healthy meal of battered fish and salad.
Dinner placed on the table, I set off to the fridge to find the seafood sauce, a bottle of which I knew was in there somewhere and which I eventually found.
Unusually, I checked the “use by” date to find it read “June 2017”.
Now, I realise food companies err on the side of caution and put the use-by date a little early, but even I thought two years was a bit of a stretch so I discarded that.
I must say, during the week I cooked up an omelette onto which I spread some shredded cheese I found in the same fridge which went down a treat. It was only after the feast that I suspiciously checked the use-by date to find “May 2018”, but as I write this three days later I haven’t had any ill effects so cheese mustn’t go off – ever!
But back to the fish. Not one for tomato or barbecue sauce, I do keep same in stock in case family or friends come around and ask for such condiments. So, I decided to go for tomato sauce, grabbed the little plastic bottle of red stuff and, by now wise to checking use-by dates, I glanced at the print to see “1/2/19”.
“Ah, it’s only a month,” I thought, and squeezed the bottle above the tucker… nothing came out. I squeezed harder, still nothing. Then I realised the bottle hadn’t been opened so, after unscrewing the top and removing the seal, I replaced the cap and squeezed – firing red sauce over the plate, across the table and splashing into the wall.
Bloody hell! By the time I’d cleaned that up my fish was going cold, unlike the salad beneath it which had been warmed by the fish.
I finished the cool fish and warm salad and cleaned up in time to settle down on the couch to watch St George/Illawarra Dragons’ first game of the season – the annual Charity Shield match against South Sydney.
Two minutes in and the Rabbitohs scored and, in disgust, I switched channels to watch the cricket only to find Australia copping a hiding from India.
Despondent, and sober, I switched channels again and settled on watching “Live at the Apollo” which had a list of women comedians performing at the famous London venue.
The show included one of my favourites, Scottish comedian Sarah Millican, so I thought “This will be less stressful than watching the Dragons lose or the Aussies copping a hiding”.
And, what’s more by then I really did need a laugh.
There I sat, contented, enjoying a giggle when, naturally, the smoke alarm started beeping at me, telling me the batteries were going flat.
I don’t know why, I only replaced the batteries, like, two or three years ago.
When my grandfather built the house in 1926, he made the ceilings about 10m off the floor so I need an extended ladder just to reach the bloody thing, and all I have is an old wooden rickety ladder with which I can only reach the ceiling by standing on the top rung.
Fortunately, the alarm’s squealing stopped, either the batteries still have life in them or they’ve died completely, I don’t know. (To save calls from my Firies mates, I have since replaced the battery.)
But fair dinkum, these challenges are enough to drive a bloke to drink, or in my case, back to drink.