What Your Choice Of Drink At The Pub Says About You

Swan – you’re a seasoned pub pisshead who knows they need a stable rock in their life. Lord knows the reckless TAB bets & dicey servo food are all the risks you need. You’re also infamous for stinking up your mate’s living room after a night on their couch. 

Fancy craft – you’ve convinced yourself that you’re drinking these $18 pints because of the taste. Has nothing to do with the high %. Oh, what’s that? The sloshed guy with the brewers hat & craft beer t-shirt wants to go on a pleb beer rant? What a blessing for all around him. More HERE.

Corona – you didn’t choose the turbo life, the turbo life chose you. A Corona with lime looks excellent next to your gold Nixon watch as you engage in a demented staring competition with the seccys. You sleep on a floor mattress surrounded by protein tubs in Scabs. More on the turbo life HERE.

Cider – you have digestive issues or you’re from the UK or something. Accordingly, you are easily set off with the establishment doesn’t have your exact tipple. You are trying to forget that year you were all about the Rekorderlig too.

Red can – you’re either a fully grown country hick or you’re an insufferable inner-city hipster appropriating the bush chook culture. There really is no in between. Whichever category you fall under you’ll be devo when the pub doesn’t stock it – either for your image or you don’t know how to drink any thing else.  More on old mate HERE.

Vodka, soda, lime – you’ve successfully fooled yourself into thinking an afternoon slamming down vodka is a “healthier” option. Probably didn’t eat much either, did ya? Sure, you take in fewer KJs but there isn’t much “healthy” about giving the toilets a little interior decorating after you realise your piss-fitness is abysmal. More HERE.

Seltzers – you’re on a “health” kick to get off the beers and have replaced your froffy joys with 2.5 times more seltzers. You wince every time you have to pay $10 for one and absolutely refuse to allow yourself to admit most taste like fruitbat-precum.  More HERE.

Vodka water – you give the aforementioned a good name and that was previously thought impossible. What are you doing? Honestly. Has a life of bland salads completely robbed you of tastebuds? Are you able to experience joy? 

Aperol Spritz – you think you’re a little bit better than everyone because you first tried an Aperol Spritz on a 2 week Contiki tour in Italy. You also like that your drink stands out. A beacon of your sophistication and worldly knowledge. You judge those you deem unworthy of ordering the drink. 

Prosecco – you won’t hesitate to unleash the screeching song of your people at any opportunity possible. You live your life like it’s one giant general admission area at Ascot Racecourse. More on bottomless brunch HERE.

House red – with a meal a glass of red is the epitome of sophistication. But if you’re young, a house red while you’re watching the footy is just some straight Dahmer shit. If you’re older, it’s probably the doctor’s orders. Not sure if that prescription pad says 10 glasses a day but hey. 

House white – you paid attention to your last winery tour Douth and want to drop some knowledge on the oaks, the butteriness, ocean spray, etc. Never mind you are sucking back a depressing glass of swill. 

Espresso martini – much like the Prosecco drinker you are living your life one ladies’ night at a time. You love slipping in that X and have no regard for how long you hold up the bar line ordering your wooo-nectar and enjoy finishing the night in a pool of caffeine-induced anxiety-drama. More on the life HERE.

Negroni – you delight in telling other bartenders how you make it. Armed with a Negroni in hand you’re practically Don Draper. See, it’s a REAL drink – 3 types of booze and some fkn garnish. Why isn’t everyone in the room bowing down to you?

Bottle of Jack – the official drink of the FIFO bloke in the beer garden sucking on the blueberry-dick like it could give him a good deal on a point. A true symbol of wealth, opulence, and class in the depths of SOR venues. 

Gin & tonic – forget fancy cocktails you know you have the most sophisticated taste in the room. You like to rock everyone’s socks off with your knowledge that cucumber goes well with Hendrick’s. Your hangovers are absolutely brutal. 

Shots – you’ve cacked your dacks 9 times on the piss and you’ve got a good feeling you’re going to make it no.10 after a few more shots and a little trip to a kareoke bar later. You are banned from sleeping over at most mate’s houses.

LLB – too good for an easy spray of the lemonade nozzle are ya? You like to make a point of the fact you aren’t drinking and expect the same level of service. Suppose that’s fair enough. 

Fire engine – you’re probably between the ages of 5-12 and no one wants you in the pub. Your folks have had the grand idea to sugar you up and let you run riot in the beer garden like it was a playground. Crotch goblining at its finest. 

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Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?