It is Friday night tradition (well since my partner started his new job in South Brisbane) for us all to meet up in West End at the boutique wine and beer store there – Nectar (brilliant name!)I always find it challenging to go there on a Friday afternoon and to see the groups of people gathered together chatting, blowing off steam at the end of the week and enjoying a beverage or two. I yearn to be there among them. Some weeks I do better than others at coping. This weeks wasn’t a good one.
So I was in a particuarly foul mood and not really into being there, watching Dylan climb on the concrete gecko a few doors down (to keep him from running around the shop) or listening to the locals argue and swear at each other near the gecko so Dylan couldn’t climb on it.
It was on one of our trips back into the Nectar that I read the board out the front. They weren’t offering up their specials – something better …
And you can’t be grumpy after you’ve read that. Especially if you’re a child of the 70’s and remember the AFL grandfinal and the cricket with their obligatory streakers.