The Brisbane Chronicles: Kicked Outta The Bar

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Well, this is a first. "May I ask why?"

"Well sir, you see..."

Wait.

Let me back up to the beginning.

Last Thursday, I headed out on the town with some friends I'd made here. We decided to hit one of the local pubs for dinner and drinks.

I'd found a place called The Union Jack in the downtown area of Brisbane, and I figured that would be a fun place to go. Besides, you're pretty much guaranteed that you'll be able to find good whiskey at a place called The Union Jack.

So we met up at 7, and headed over to the pub. We ordered some drinks, some fish and chips, and my personal favorite, shepherd's pie.

Oh, and a whiskey.

Thursday nights at The Union Jack, you can buy a card for $10 that gets you four drinks. The only problem is that they sell the card every OTHER hour, and we'd just missed the cut-off for the card. No big deal, just wait until 8 and then go to the counter and get one.

So we sat and talked and enjoyed our dinner, and when I checked my watch again, it was after 8.

$10 drink card time!

I headed to the front entrance to buy a card when a rather burly-looking bloke stepped up to me and said:

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Well, this is a first. "May I ask why?"

"Well sir, you see, we have a dress code, and I can't let you in if you're only wearing shorts."

But I've been here for the past hour?

"I come on at 8, and that's when our dress code starts. You're going to have to leave."

Can I at least go back in and get my stuff?

"Oh yeah, sure mate."

Be right back.

So I head back to the table, explain to my friends that I've just been kicked out for wearing shorts, finish off what's left of my whiskey and the shepherd's pie, and head back out, telling my friends that I'll wait for them to catch up.

"Hey mate, sorry about that, but it's the rules."

No worries. It's just kinda funny. Who in their right mind would wear pants when it's as hot as it is?

"True. Most places around here have that rule though. Nothing I can do."

Like I said, no worries. I enjoyed the place though. Maybe I'll come back for lunch sometimes.

"Right. Dress code doesn't start until 8, so you'd be good then."

Yep. Well, here come my friends. Take it easy.

And then we headed off to another outdoor bar that wasn't as strict in their clothing requirements.

Thus ends the tale of the first time I ever got kicked out of a bar.

Oh, and in case anybody out there reading this would like to get a hold of me directly, my e-mail is yoshiwatari (at) hotmail (dot) com. Hope to hear from you, Sebastian. Thanks for the comment on my last post, and thanks for looking me up!