No, I said Belgian beer

Did you hear the one about the bloke who walked into Kingston’s Belgian beer café on 31 January and asked for a Hoegaarden. “Sorry mate”, said the barman, “only got Aussie beers. Left over from straya day. Don’t have any Belgian beer”.

Bloke double-checked the signs –Yep ‘Belgium Beer Café’ and ‘Little Brussels’. Must be the right place. Hey, he thought hopefully, this fella’s pulling my leg. Look at those beautiful, frosty beer taps – Hoegaarden, Chimay, Stella Artois, Leffe – Belgian as chocolate, consummate branding, makes your mouth water just looking at ‘em.

Uh oh, he thought, moving closer, what’re those paper scraps sticky-taped on the taps?  Jeez, crappy handwriting, but that one says Cooper’s Pale Ale and bloody hell, there’s Snowy Mountains Hefeweizen on the Hoegaarden spout.

It’s not a bloody joke at all thought the bloke. It’s a modern Monty Python sketch. Relenting, he said to wife, it’s 36 outside. I’m bloody thirsty. You’re bloody thirsty.  Let’s have a beer. So they sipped Cooper’s from a Stella Artois glass and Snowy Mountains from a Hoegaarden glass.

The bloke loved Belgian beer, admired InBev’s superlative marketing and wondered what head office might make of this Aussie freelancing.

Copyright © Chris Shanahan 2009

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