Macca’s Useless Information: What! More flies?

  I love it when my day ends in the bar of a little country pub full of smiling faces and dusty boots. It’s the kind of place that you just know you’re going to hear a yarn. A couple…


March 16, 2017

 

I love it when my day ends in the bar of a little country pub full of smiling faces and dusty boots. It’s the kind of place that you just know you’re going to hear a yarn. A couple of weeks ago my day ended exactly like that and guess what? Yep, here’s the well-rehearsed theatrical performance I was subjected to by a local and the publican; No sooner had I plonked my tail end on a stool at the bar when the local beside me says to the publican, “Where’s Baz? These flies are drivin’ me nuts”.

For images, videos and the full RV Daily experience, read this in our online magazine.

The conversation continues and I glean from their seemingly sincere conversation that Baz is a local that comes to the bar and kills flies. When Baz is in the pub no one has to worry about flies in their beer because Baz nails every one of them. Now apparently, old mate beside me is somewhat unlucky today because Baz had just gone home before he arrived and yep, you guessed it, there wasn’t a fly left alive in that pub before Bazza’s cook had called to tell him his dinner was ready and he left. I was conjuring up pictures of a bloke in his blue singlet and hat, fly swat in hand, dancing around the bar splatting fly guts everywhere when the publican says this; “I tell ya what, I counted them this arvo and in the last five minutes here, old Baz smacked five flies, that’s not bad for an old bloke, one a minute, two females and three males.”

I thought wow, how good is this Baz? The lord of the flies, tags them, bags them and even knows their sex, I couldn’t help myself and broke into the conversation. “Two females and three males? How the bloody hell does he know what sex they are?” The whole bar went quiet and instantly I knew I’d been done, they all stopped what they were doing to hear another traveller get done with their local gag and I’d put my foot right in the trap. The publican’s reply was this “He killed three of ’em in his beer, the other two were on the bloody phone!” The whole bar erupts and the performance was complete, they all file past, give me a slap on the back to say sorry for letting me be the victim of these two’s matinée performance.

Cheers,
Macca

Share your love
RV Daily
RV Daily

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *