ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
A local city worker has been left dumbfounded this afternoon after learning a junior colleague has returned from a boys’ weekend away feeling refreshed and well-rested.
Sam Denison, 35, is slowly becoming part of the furniture at Stubbock Insurance, chalking up his tenth year working for the mid-tier domestic underwriter. At the start of March, they hired Jackson Dalgety, 23, straight out of university.
On Friday, Jackson was granted permission to leave after lunch. He was set to head out to Lake Betoota with 6 other mates for a weekend away playing golf, going for swims, and other fun activities.
Speaking to The Advocate this morning, Denison said he expected to find a shell of a human sitting at Jackson’s desk this morning, but instead, he found someone with colour in their face and a smile on their dial. He detailed the conversation he had with the office baby.
“How was the weekend, mate? Did you get up to much?” said Denison with a wry smile.
“Oh, you know, we played Lake Betoota on Saturday arvo. Went for a big walk on Saturday morning and got breakfast in town. Then we had a surf, then yeah, we played golf. I shot 2 over on the back, it was pretty nice. The weather was really good.”
Denison nodded.
“Then what? You blokes get on the bags or what? Who won first can? Who was the last to bed?”
Jackson pursed his lips.
“Nah, we actually didn’t drink that much. We watched that Godzilla Minus One actually on Saturday night. Like some of the boys had a beer when they cooked dinner on the BBQ, but yeah, we didn’t do any drugs.”
Denison laughed.
“What’s wrong with ya? You blokes Christians or something?”
Later on, Denison told our reporter that it’s certainly a departure from what he and his mates used to get up to when they were Jackson’s age. Much different from what he and his mates do now, to be frank.
“Mate, we’d have 15 bags on order. A few bags of MD (MDMA). Few little feedbags of horse (ketamine). Someone might even have sourced some good old-fashioned pressed pingas. We’d have 10 fresh decks of Peter Stuyvesant Blues. A cube of full-power mass-produced lager each. After we played golf, it’s straight to the nearest club. Pokies, punting on horses, schooners. Doing bags in the toilet. Smoking durries in the sun in the beer garden. Heaven,” he explained.
“We’d be doing bags on the course. We’d be doing bags for breakfast. On Sunday, the AirBnB would be a morgue. People would be smelling their own breath to see if they could drive.”
“What’s wrong with kids these days?”
More to come.
