Thursday, January 1, 2009

Liquor Land Man is Not My Boyfriend

There’s not a whole lot that housemates can bond over aside from brands of detergent and how the friggin’ hell to put together the clothes horse in one go.

So, it was a momentous day when I was planning an excursion to the local bottle-O and the housemates decided to come too. Usually we drown our sorrows separately.
“I hope Liquor Land Man is working,“ Girl Housemate #1 said, eagerly.
“Ooh, yeah!“ said Girl Housemate #2.
“Yeah, Liquor Land Man!“ I chimed in. “Hang on - you guys have noticed him too? I thought I was the only one!“
Pillow fights.
Friends 4 eva.

Liquor Land Man has some serious charisma.

It’s not like I’m a booze hound. I don’t go to the bottle-O like it’s Coles and I need a litre of milk. I just pop in every now and then to replace my mint chocolate Baileys or for a bottle of vanilla champagne (when I do drink, I go very hard.) But, in the few times that Liquor Land Man has sold me my grog, the banter has been lively, he’s given me a big old grin and I’ve walked out of there happier than when I went in.

Yes, I do realise this is the customary emotional pattern for a bottle shop experience. But when Liquor Land Man is not rostered on, I just don’t get the same vibe from Liquor Land Girl. Liquor Land Man always seems to have had more than the recommended two standard glasses of personality. (Bit of alcohol humour there.)

Liquor Land Man is Not My Boyfriend because I saw him last night, NOT AT LIQUOR LAND!

It was New Year’s but I was most certainly NOT doing that panicked last-minute scan for a random to pash. In the last few years, some schmo decided we’re all in an American sit-com and that a kiss at midnight is the be-all and end-all of New Year’s Eve. It isn’t and I wasn’t. I swear.

I just happened to spot a vaguely familiar tall man walking towards the bar and said to my friends, “I think I know that guy.”
(Why do we always insist on pointing out that we’ve seen someone we know? It’s not like it ever elicits a response.)

“It’s Liquor Land Man!” I gasped. No one cared, of course.
What would I say to him? We normally talk about alcohol…
Maybe he would be interested in hearing about my attempt to make cider my new ‘thing’… Although, I don’t actually know any of the names of cider so I would hit a wall and look like an idiot.

He turned up at the bar and ordered a drink. He stood next to me, tall and sans-Liquor Land t-shirt. I opened my mouth a few times to try and say hello. My friends were moving away from the bar and I told them I’d rejoin them in a minute.
“I just want to see if this person I think I know is the person that I know.”
I don’t know what the point of this mission was. But I felt it was my duty to the Girl Housemate bond to report back with something.

Liquor Land Man got handed his drink.
Last chance to say something. Last chance to say something…
“You work at Liquor Land!”
I may as well have opened with “See Spot run” or “I think I like green eggs and ham.” He turned to face me.

“Do I?”
“Oh my god, you don’t?”
“Don’t what?”
“Work at Liquor Land?”
“No, I do.”
“Thank god, I thought I was going crazy.”
“Well, you do look crazy.” (See? Charisma!)
“I am pretty crazy.”
He got his change from the bar and I realised we were almost at the end of the conversation. I had to stall him with a question.
“Um… I don’t really look crazy do I?”
“It’s okay, we’re all a bit crazy.”

I threw in a bat of the eyelashes.

He walked away, then. And I felt that remorse you feel when you’ve just met a celebrity and tried to say something really amazing and friendly and funny so they would automatically want to be your best friend but what it actually came out like was: “Hi, Delta, I harmonise with you in the car.”

I went back to my friends. The guy has helped me pick out cheap wine twice. I don’t know why I thought I was going to have some kind of Sex-and-the-City cut to us cheers-ing on a date, cut to us at his place surrounded by empty bottles of plonk, cut to us as boyfriend-and-girlfriend, buying a winery. I know life’s not like that. It’s just that sometimes I hear stories from people that life is like that!

He walked past me again half an hour later and I thought I just hadn’t given it enough of a crack before. So, I got his attention and mustered up everything I had to give it another red hot go:
“Liquor Land Man, I’m always going to call you 'Liquor Land Man', okay?”
“My name’s…”
But he was gone.
Today, when I went to get goon, I went to Dan Murphy’s.


  1. hey if its helps, dan murpheys are cheaper anyways!

  2. lmfao .. !! great story .. i now have a liquorland man, and randomly came across your blog .. the liquorland man you have reminds me of mine ! haha wish i could see mine outside of liquorland .. but don't wanna take the chance of going to dan murphys lol


Tree Hearts Blogger Template