I met Tripp at the bar of the Great Northern Hotel. We had both been waiting ten minutes to get served, not because the bar was busy but because there was no one behind it. It’s sometimes easier to buy a house in Australia than it is to buy a drink. My father wouldn’t approve. He did a five-year apprenticeship in bar management and in his day could keep four orders in his head at a time. In Australia they hire backpackers who think that stacking glasses is more important than serving customers.
In an Irish pub, you’d be disappointed if you hadn’t been asked for your order before the front door closed behind you. I remember being in O’Donoghue’s pub in Dublin on a busy Saturday night, The crowd was three deep at the bar but suddenly I saw a guy who seemed nine feet tall asking me what I wanted. He was on a small step ladder behind the counter and I was served in the length of time it takes a pint of Guinness to settle.
Unfortunately, while Ireland has exported its pub culture to the rest of the world, we haven’t included the service culture. Bars are quite often left unattended here while the staff change barrels or nip out to the kitchen. That would be a cardinal sin in the old country and would more than likely lead to a lot of missing spirit bottles when the barman returned.
Tripp, as it turned out was American. You don’t meet many yanks here. They are unlikely to visit Australia in search of ancestors after all and they are not great travellers generally, unless they are in the military and are invading some unfortunate country.
But one thing Americans are is assertive and when the young barmaid deigned to turn her attention to our end of the bar, he caught her attention first. He asked what low alcohol beers they had and she replied “we have Cascade Light in a stubbie”.
He ruminated for a minute before saying “OK, I’ll have one of those, I’ve got a couple more drinks to order but you might want to get that first”. In doing so, he touched on two of my biggest frustrations. Why can’t people order everything in one go? It saves time, you know. And if there is only one choice in the particular beverage you are after, why do you need to think about it? Maybe I’m getting grumpy in my old age, but when he next asked if they had non alcoholic cider, I felt like suggesting that he might want to take his group to a church meeting and not a pub.
He then tried to pay by credit card and was delighted to find out that he could use his pin number rather than his signature. Unfortunately he couldn’t remember his pin number but wasn’t overly concerned because he thought he had it recorded in his phone. That resulted in some furtive searching in the bottom of his back pack and then three failed attempts at entering the code before he realised that the numbers in his phone were the combination for his home alarm.
At this stage, the transaction had taken so long that closing time was imminent. I stepped in and offered to pay for the Yank’s drinks using that old fashioned method called cash. I embarrassed him in the process and he quickly produced a $50 dollar note, leading to audible sighs from the barmaid and myself.
He picked up on my accent and said “Heh, you’re from Ireland. I was over there last year. Gee, you guys have a swell country but where are the leprechauns? We searched the whole country and didn’t see one”.
“They all died out in the 1950’s,” I said. “That’s when lawnmowers were introduced. They lived in gardens you see and they didn’t stand a chance. Most of those mowers came from America. So I guess you guys are to blame”.
“Wow” he said. “I never knew that. But where did all the pots of gold go?”
“How do you think we financed the Celtic Tiger?” I said as I finally caught the barmaid’s attention.
While I was waiting, I asked Tripp what he thought of Australia. He was disappointed not to have seen any kangaroos on his trip to date. It turned out that he’d been in Melbourne for two days and hadn’t made it out of the City. I told him that Kangaroos liked to ride around on the back seats of trams and he made a note to check that out the next day.
This led us to a discussion on how Australia is the only country in the world that eats both animals on its national emblem. It’s difficult of course to talk about food with an American without them salivating. Tripp headed back to the bar and ordered three meals. I noticed that he changed something on each order. No onions with one, mayonnaise on the side with another and beef instead of chicken in the third one. It got me thinking as to why Americans do this. Is it to ensure that their meal is cooked fresh and not something prepared in an out of state warehouse four days ago and reheated? This would be a noble endeavour. But I suspect that their motives are more mercenary. They tip, even when abroad where it’s not required and thus expect some effort for their extra contribution.
I noticed that Tripp had avoided the kangaroo option on the menu despite my advise that the best place to see a Roo in Australia is on a dinner plate.
The barmaid departed for the kitchen to explain Tripp’s complex order to the Chef. I was left alone at the unattended bar. My criminal mind kicked in until I saw the surveillance camera peering down at me. We live in a monitored world and that’s something I also blame Tripp and his countrymen for.
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