Are you lost, ma'am?
WHO: Cody and Ion
WHEN: October 2nd, mid-afternoon
WHERE: Outside the convenience store
WHAT: Cody's post-move-in beer run is disrupted indefinitely when he bumps into a certain Moldovan.
It wasn't often Cody admitted defeat, but this was, well, too much. He'd spent a good few days tracking down his favourite Australian beers, but alas; no four-ex, no Victoria Bitter (that being a bogan's drink of choice notwithstanding); he must've been desperate, because in the end, he settled for Foster's. What a crying shame. Perhaps calling Mum was in order, to see if she could hook him up with something that didn't taste like bleedin' bear piss.
The beer itself wasn't hard to locate; it was stacked amongst the rest of the piss poor alcohol, at the rear end of the twenty-four hour store. The allure of the classier, more refined European lager was almost too much to stand. Cody felt his desire for the amber nectar waver a touch- his insistence on supporting Aussie brands sure bit him in the arse from time to time.
Thankfully, the queue was short, bordering on nonexistent. Cody paid, mentally grumbled about the extortionate price; turned on his heel, almost poked an elderly lady's eye out with his elbow; and left the store. His mind began to wander again, even when he stepped out into the sharp afternoon sun, the one thing not on his mind was where he was going, and who, or what, could possibly be in his path.
WHEN: October 2nd, mid-afternoon
WHERE: Outside the convenience store
WHAT: Cody's post-move-in beer run is disrupted indefinitely when he bumps into a certain Moldovan.
It wasn't often Cody admitted defeat, but this was, well, too much. He'd spent a good few days tracking down his favourite Australian beers, but alas; no four-ex, no Victoria Bitter (that being a bogan's drink of choice notwithstanding); he must've been desperate, because in the end, he settled for Foster's. What a crying shame. Perhaps calling Mum was in order, to see if she could hook him up with something that didn't taste like bleedin' bear piss.
The beer itself wasn't hard to locate; it was stacked amongst the rest of the piss poor alcohol, at the rear end of the twenty-four hour store. The allure of the classier, more refined European lager was almost too much to stand. Cody felt his desire for the amber nectar waver a touch- his insistence on supporting Aussie brands sure bit him in the arse from time to time.
Thankfully, the queue was short, bordering on nonexistent. Cody paid, mentally grumbled about the extortionate price; turned on his heel, almost poked an elderly lady's eye out with his elbow; and left the store. His mind began to wander again, even when he stepped out into the sharp afternoon sun, the one thing not on his mind was where he was going, and who, or what, could possibly be in his path.