For many office-battlers, the promise to numb the pain at Friday lunch is the oasis in an otherwise barren desert of mundane corporate life. Many of us yearn for an hour of freedom, but proper care should be exercised, especially in your younger years.

Don’t go the 3rd pint: prevention is the best cure. Some say the 2 pint euphoria is the best feeling in the world.

So don’t go blowing it by trying to smash another drink down your gullet in the remaining 10 minutes of your lunch break unless of course, you want to tell that drama-seeking office swine you hate that you want to piss in her coffee.

Freshen up: there is a lot to enjoy about a pub, but smelling like one isn’t on that list. Make sure you are well armed with breath mints and cologne/perfume. Of course, subtlety is key, as swaggering in smelling like an Italian car salesman on a date is a clear sign of guilt.

Resist the urge to banter: it is scientifically proven that 2 pints make you a funnier and more charismatic person (at least in your own head). However, coming back from lunch and acting like you’re Jerry Seinfeld is a bit of a giveaway.

The peak of the buzz will last for about 20 minutes after your last pint, so it’s best to weather your own chatty storm alone in your office or hide out in the toilet.

Look busy: always have a desk covered in shit. Documents, highlighters, post-its are all essential in pulling off the illusion you are elbow deep in the gapin’ hole of productivity.

Looking busy will reduce the odds you will be asked to perform a task beyond the scope of what you can really be bothered with after your lunchtime soiree.

Mid-Afternoon hangover: it’s not a bucket next to the bed kind of hangover, more of an existential crisis of looming self-loathing and sadness that you are stuck in an office on such a beautiful day.

This will probably sink in at around the 3:30/4 mark, so if you don’t have any vals on hand, go have a speedwank in the most discreet toilet in your office block. 

Eye on the prize: given your workplace will feel like a prison at the peak of your mid-arvo hangover, you must view the ever nearing after-work drinks as your release date.

Within a few hours, you will be sitting around a boardroom slamming down Crown Lagers with people you’d legitimately hesitate to brake for if you saw them crossing the road. Nevertheless, that’s office life, and you signed up for it.

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

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