But surviving a big night out in Oz, does take some serious planning. So being the sweetheart that I am, I compiled a wonderful list of tips. Ready? Ok.
1. Bring everything you own. Your weekly paycheck, your entire savings account, and possibly the blood of your first born child, just incase you're really in a pickle. You'll need it to afford a night out in Perth. Between cabs, entry fees, and the price of drinks, you'll be lucky to have anything left to your name by the time you leave.
- Beer: $10
- A shot of tequila: $10 - $20 depending on your baller status
- Mixed drink: $10
- Cocktail: $20
- Entry fee: $15
And those are average prices. AVERAGE y'all. I can't wait to go back to Miller Park and Lambeau Field and bitch slap myself for all of those times I complained about buying a 7 dollar beer. GET BACK IN MY LIFE.
2. Remember that for every one mixer you'd have in Wisconsin, you'll need a minimum of 5 in Australia for the same effect (aka achieving mild drunkenness). Did you know that the concept of a free pour actually doesn't exist in other parts of the world? You know, the thing where bartenders simply pour alcohol into a glass WITHOUT measuring it first? Additionally, did you know that actually pouring more than 1 oz (30 ml) of alcohol per drink is ILLEGAL? ok, cool. me neither. I once asked for more, you know for research purposes, and was DENIED horribly. And actually, I have yet to recover fully from that experience.
3. Stop smoking. Aside from it totally destroying your lungs, and probably your life, they also cost north of $20 a pack. $20 to hurt your ability to breathe normally! I totally dig the straight and to the point marketing, though.
4. Be prepared to never know what's going on. It's a constant battle of not knowing when the bars close, what is proper attire, and why we're getting breathalyzed before being allowed in.
- Bar time: Apparently any time between midnight and 7 am is a fair guess. I guess it's good to be flexible, because I still have no effing idea what's going on. ever. I just meander until the lights start coming on and I'm being dragged, pushed, or kicked out the door.
- Attire: Boys- You know that my favorites are always wearing v-necks, bro tanks and the short-sleeved button downs with weird Hawaiian prints on them. And if they're especially douchey, they'll throw some sunnies on in a dark and crowded bar to really spruce the outfit up. And at other times, dudes will show up to an Irish pub wearing tailored suits, just because they feel like it. Skulling beers and listening to live music, gives off that sort of vibe though, I guess.
Girls- Way too god damn hot to keep up with. Short and tight dresses, long hair, and tanned skin. I truly fail in comparison by showing very little skin and wearing what I like to call, mostly no-inch heels. Better luck in the next country, Jerrica. You go from a Wisconsin average, to an Australian hobo girl real quick in Perth. And sometimes, you just have to learn to accept that.
- Being drunk: You can't be. If you look drunk, be prepared to be breathalyzed before entering the bar. Even sitting on that bar stool too late into the evening is putting yourself at risk for being kicked out. And entering a bar with a group of friends? Forgetttt about it. You will likely be brutally interrogated. Am I on trial for murder or trying to get into a bar here? If you want my advice, look casual, single, and most of all, sober. And with a limit of only .05, don't you dare step behind the wheel of your car, unless you want to be carted off to the drunk tank, or what I like to call, JAIL.
5. And last, but certainly not least, remember that you're in a country where the legal drinking age is 18. Keep this in mind when you're 26 and drunkenly eye flirting with that fresh out of high school boy you're trying to schmooze. Remember. You are old as mold. It's time to start hanging out at grocery stores and banks. The 30-year-old men you love so much are gone. GONE. Gone as in non-existent.
These stories may or may not be loosely based on my personal life. And by loosely based, I mean directly related. As in, actually happened to me, or people I was with.
So before you go frolicking around with a foreigner named Stephan and spending your future retirement fund trying desperately to catch a buzz, please remember this: YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED. I've recently traded my single girl party life, for a more laid-back, grandmother-like approach. It includes pj's by 6, Mexican food by 7, and cuddled in bed by 9. And if I'm feeling balls-to-the-wall crazy, I might even have a beer with dinner. Cheers to life in your mid twenties!
Thank you to everyone who made those crazy nights even crazier, and to those who have participated in giving me epic nights and three-day hangovers. My new tame life of netflix and reading now awaits me, and my bank account, future adventures, and liver desperately thank you for understanding.
Stay tuned for next week's entry, which I actually have given zero thought to yet. I have a few ideas up my sleeve for the upcoming weeks, but if there's anything you're keen to read about, leave it in the comments section or message me directly. I'm happy to consider ideas! XO.