Friday, 1 September 2017

18. Bottomless Brunch

Sit back and relax. Put your feet up. Grab a cup of tea or, better yet, a glass of prosecco.
This is the 'Tale of the Bottomless Brunch'. 

Brunch and prosecco - unlimited prosecco. That’s all it was, so simple, so sweet. 

In the early days we truly believed. We believed we had found the answer to the empty weekend and its tired routines. 

We asked, “What is happiness?” and we answered, “Excess. In all things, especially alcohol.” 

That is how it began.

We discovered the joy of sipping, sipping, occasionally nibbling. Yes, we paid over the nail for a basic eggs Benedict, but it came with the security of unlimited alcohol and who can put a price on that? 

We didn’t realise that the cracks had started to show. 

Until we did.

We discovered that bottomless brunches were subject to rules and regulations. Gone were the carefree days of fizzy freedom.  We struggled to comply. We fought back and things got ugly.  

Yes, we could have unlimited prosecco but it could only be poured while we were still eating. Once the last morsel left our plates, the booze dried up. Brunch became a strategic game of small bites and staggered ordering. 

We learnt that to nab the bottomless deal we had to order from a “special” menu and eat at least two courses. 

“But it’s brunch,” we wept, “a famously one-course affair”. 

We had to contend with the judgement of irritable waiting staff who became tight-fisted and absent, hiding in corners, clinging to open bottles like newly discovered treasure. Brunch became a constant battle to get their attention and an awkward aversion of the eyes when they finally deigned to pour. 

"I’m not an alcoholic love, I just really want a seventh glass of prosecco at 11 in the morning - ALRIGHT!?"

The rest of the day passed in a hazy stupor. It seemed impossible to sober up and yet impossible to get any drunker. We were stuck in the dizzy limbo-land of the bottomless brunch, mildly anxious for no real reason. We were relieved to go to bed. 

Soon we began to cry, “no more!”. 

Never again will a Saturday afternoon be ruined by the morning’s excess. We will drink in the evening as god wished us to do and let sleep and darkness disguise the horrors of alcohol. 

And that is how the bottomless brunch was laid to rest. 

The End.

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