Perth Couple Brit & Alex arrived home from a down south holiday just in time to catch the final moments of Perf sunshine after a 4.5-hour commute that left them “broken”, “soulless”, “almost single”, and a “mere husk of themselves”.
Nevertheless, the afternoon sun inspired the smallest slither of hope in their hearts and they decided to head out for their last hoorah at the pub.
For a brief moment, the pair were enjoying their Monday evening. It was just after their first drinks went down and just before the existential dread of reality started creeping into their hearts.
A bartender at the inner city pub told The Times,
“I reckon you could pick the exact moment that the flame of hope extinguished in their eyes. It was just as the sun went down. You could tell thoughts of wining & dining turned to the dark abyss of having to get up for work soon enough”
Gleeful reminiscing on the weekend of excess soon turned to slow sips of anguish as the couple exchanged 1000-yard stares as they picked at the last morsels of the share plate.
Brit still had slight wine stains on her teeth from her weekend and was not dealing with the partying ending well at all. She told The Times,
“One day you’re ducking out of work early on a Thursday to head Douth and the next you’re slowly flicking through unread work emails to see just how much of a fuckfest you’re in for tomorrow morning. Put me out of my misery please, kinder that way”
Similarly, Alex had reached a state of bliss after a weekend of beer paddles, cheese sausages, and soothing sounds of waves crashing at their Yallingup holiday home. He told The Times,
“I’m going to finish this pint then we’re going to go home and I’m going to watch Netflix in a completely numb state. My sleep pattern is cooked so I’ll be up until at least 11 pm in a state of abject panic. I’m not ready man”
To make matters worse, the couple had a little peek at their bank balances after they’d unpacked half their shit on their bedroom floor.
Alex denied he was crying but the precipitation on his cheek was unmistakable. Telling The Times,
“I bought this carton of top-notch wine to bring back & cellar but we ended up just smashing every bottle with our mates. $75 a bottle of wine. Drunk wasted at 2 am after a pack of darts. Why am I like this?”
Needless to say, the situation was not improved with a mutual friend posting their final night in Yalls photo to Instagram – gloating about the decision to take an extra day to unwind.
We can confirm that said mutual friend is no longer invited to the wedding. Smug piece of shit.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?