It’s no surprise that a cheeky bevvie is a religion in Australia and to that end, Uncle Dans is the cathedral. Alas, like all faiths, refreshing salvation comes at a cost.
First is the nagging guilt one feels when they enter Uncle Dans knowing they are dogging local, independents who were there for us in the pre-Dan years.
Just like leaving your kids in the Red Roota while you head out to the car park to get a tropicana greased wristy, you pursue your own consumeristic pleasure while leaving those who need you to watch in disgust.
Luckily, you can briefly forget about this guilt by dealing with a carpark situation that is like the Bunbury Farmers Market if they had a discount on high percentage farkwit juice. Do your best to dodge dual cabs and once you spot a free park you should fully anticipate some pondless goose to have left a trolley blocking your way that you’ll have to deal with.
Survived the car park? Great, that’s not the last time you’ll have to tussle with trollies because inside these beautiful pissthedrals are a who’s who of the E-Plate community steering the clunky trollies with all the grace of a rollerskating Giraffe after getting into the fermented berries.
You’ll have to resign yourself to the constant fear of getting your ankle clipped by one of these shaky pisswrecks as you enter the abyss of the same shelves you’ve stared at a hundred times. Why does the range never change? Is it time to try that tin of cheap Bali belly discharge? Not today, you say.
Alas, the tyranny of choice has an easy solution. You allow yourself to be guided by the discounts. Which, given the company’s buying power, is frankly inadequate. Alas, in this cost of living crisis, you’ll gladly feast on the fats of stock clearance. You may as well, it’s the entire reason you can’t look your local Cellarbrations dude in the eyes.
While second-guessing the 20-punch combo you’re about to deliver to your liver, you suddenly hear a scuffle. It’s a classic Uncle Dan’s live entertainment show and it happens all the time. Move over Priceline, Uncle Dans are Perth’s most prominent shoplifting spots.
Once the madness has subsided you will have to channel your inner bogan on a wine tour and lull the taste-testing representatives into a false sense of your sophistication. At no stage can they know you’re just trying to sneak an extra standard drink in before the games really begin.
It takes a true actor to feign interest in some of the disgusting offerings. Not that you care, just slop it all in your disgusting party trough. You animal.
Now it’s time to acquire your goods. It couldn’t be that easy though, could it? For the checkouts are where the Dan Murphy’s experience truly shines.
Unsurprisingly, consumers will take the opportunity to merge poorly with glee. Some people decide to join the long line forming while others attempt to line up at the individual checkouts. There is plenty of stinkeyes flying and staff have the unenviable task of herding pisscats.
You’ll get to pole position eventually but not until you get stuck behind a boomer buying about 5 months’ worth of the wine that could legally be sold as paint thinner. Expect a lengthy delay as you gaze upon a faster-moving checkout and wonder what if. What could’ve been?
Patience is a virtue and all that and you’ve been as patient as a Freo Docker’s supporter who got a good deal on a can of Silvo. Finally, it’s your time and as you hand over your card or phone number you wait for the delicious discount.
Alas, given their huge range and Kafkaesque logistics, your discount hasn’t popped up. You ask yourself, are you going to hold up this line for another 5 minutes while you fight for your $2 discount? Oath you are.
After things are resolved you briefly ponder if your past purchases pop up on the screen. Does the guy selling you a 6 pack really need to know you bought 5 cartons of Cruisers last weekend?
Well, that’s just the society we live in now really. Now back to the car park to try and get out alive.
Good luck.