The Subway Principal
This year was my 10th consecutive Anzac day celebrated at my local bowling club at Kahibah and every year I watch as the young, naive people who don’t frequent the club swarm in and not know how to line up for a beer.
For those who don’t know, bowling clubs often employ the Subway Principal as the preferred line up method to get a beer.
The Subway Principal is quite simple and follows the line up rules that Subway*, the successful sandwich maker uses. That is, to line up along the bar rather than line up deep. Keep the people moving along conveyor belt style, keeping the line moving.
It’s origin’s stems from those drinkers who got sick of leaving the bar and having to carry their drinks through the crowd of people lined up behind them. Some snazzy thinkers realised that less beer was spilt by moving along rather than through.
The bar staff never falter from serving only those only operating within the proper line up method. If you’re lining up behind people and being neglected they will not explain to you the error of your ways as they’re probably too busy working efficiently with those who know how to line up.
Nothing frustrates me more than watching those who crowd around the back of the group wondering why they aren’t getting served. I will often go out of my way to educate those poor souls who so want a beer but a too dim to notice why those in front of them are getting served while they are getting no closer to the bar.
There is something rewarding about going to line up yourself and seeing a young fella you just taught getting served with a smile on his face, chuffed to have discovered the secrets of the elusive line.
There are obviously exceptions to the rule. If no one is at the bar you can obviously walk right up. If there is a bowler or an older member of the club, let them go in front of you. But for the most part, if you live by the Subway Principal you’ll be fine.
So, in the interest of helping the young learn this sophisticated and effective lining up process i’ve included a diagram below.
*This post is no way sponsored, supported or endorsed by Subway ™… even though they’re delicious…
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This is the last of my Smiths Crisps Do Us A Flavour competition This was a last minute entry I whipped up, I think I managed to get it done in an hour or so just before the competition was about to close.
It’s definitely the cutest of the entries (besides maybe the Spoon in this one). Click on the image below for a full sized, un-cropped version. Enjoy.
Here is my second entry in the Smiths Do Us a Flavour competition (For Part I click here).
This one I can understand not getting through to the finals on account of it having beer in the title. But the chips wouldn’t be alcoholic (obviously) it’s just about the flavour. This was based off my Beef ‘n’ Beer Stew that I cook during winter. When it’s cooking it makes the house smell like a pub… A classy pub, like with stools and stuff, but a pub none the less.
This just may be my favourite entry of them all… click the image below for a full size version of the pic.
Middle Finger Pt I
Most people sit down every day, often more than once, and never give it a thought. The ability to place our bum down on a seat or surface, to go from standing to sitting is a skill we often take for granted. Most people are able to accomplish this feat without inflicting horrible personal injury upon themselves… I however, was not so lucky.
This story of sitting gone wrong takes place one night at the local bowling club after a few ales (as all good stories do). My friends and I were all filing into a mates van for a lift into town when the incident took place.
As I climbed aboard and dropped myself into the back seat a horrible wet popping sound was heard throughout the car. At first we were all a bit confused as to what the sound was exactly. As we sat in the dark (all the doors were closed) I removed my hand from under my bum where my sit had come to rest to reveal the misshaped silhouette of what I thought was my hand… a cold wet sensation began trickling down my arm…
When the front door opened and the inside car light came on the horrific remains of my middle finger were revealed… What used to be my middle finger on my right hand. Finger nail, straight up. Finger tip skin, sagging and swinging. Bone, sticking out. … the sight of which sent my mates to the windows gagging and left me in shock. How could a sit go so wrong?
To spare you the shocking & graphic image of the actual injury, see the artists interpretation below.
After cleaning up the copious amount of blood spilling from my finger (it was literally spurting out with my heartbeat) it was clear that I had somehow managed to somehow separate the 3 things that make up a finger. The bone, the flesh and the nail.
It was off to the emergency room for me…
To be continued…
