A pub lunch has brought four co-workers to climax this afternoon, after experiencing a familiar vibration pulsate across a table.

The flashing red lights blaring from the sleek, black ‘Parmy Pager’ was enough to kick lunch into 2nd gear, as the four colleagues caught up for their first social interaction in five months.

Swoons of ‘Aaaaaaahs’ and ‘Oooooooohs’ echoed throughout the hallways of York St establishment, The Duke of George Hotel, as the patrons salivated at the thought of a basket of bistro chips.

A flurry of hands and elbows clamoured across the table, as James Merivale (28) proudly called dibs on the first breaded bird to come out the kitchen.

“Ohhh God, Ohhhh God! It’s mine, I’m number 48!”, panted James whilst shitting the bed and knocking over two half empty schooners.

“I ordered first, so it’s definitely mine!!”, gleefully yelled the young finance manager, sprinting off to collect his meal from the dispatch window located next to the mens toilet.

Thankful of a moment of peace without the little upstart twat, the three remaining colleagues excitedly discuss what food they’d ordered.

“I’ve got the Wagyu Burger coming,” said Graham, the office big rig who had secretly ordered some salt n’ pepper calamari which he didn’t intend on sharing.

“I’ve been dreaming all lockdown about that milk bun soaked in chipotle mayo and wet lettuce, it’s been too long”.

“I’ve got the pumpkin and pine nut salad,” proudly exclaimed office assistant and painful pescatarian Jodie Ottenghi.

The regular tuna and rice yuppie seemingly clueless that she was about to pay $23 for six squares of pumpkin and some lawn clippings drenched in balsamic vinegar.

“All through lockdown I’ve been eating less meat and feeling like, uhhh totally so much better”, she boorishly told the table.

“Rib eye for me!” yells Marcia DeRucci, the Global Senior Manager who hadn’t decided whether the next round of Peroni’s was going to be covered by the company Amex.

“I know it’s $48, but today’s worth celebrating,’ said Marcia unaware the bistro had sourced its Hereford beef from Coles.

The long awaited lunch took an unexpected dive, as schnitzel recipient James returned to the table, his face puzzled with confusion.

“I swear I ordered just regular gravy.”

“Oh wait, maybe I did order mushroom…”

“Also this salad is fucked, does anyone wanna swap?”

The table collectively shook their heads, quietly enjoying the despair painted across his face.

“Also there’s some weird entree still up there, did anyone order calamari?”.

More to come.


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