Although social distancing has changed the experience, catching up over real draught beer has become a precious experience
On a Thursday I found myself in a Sydney pub, drinking draught beers. Draughts! Around me and my friend Oliver were people, wearing outfits.
Nobody looked great, as though maybe we were all a little rusty on the clothes front; as though maybe the only clothes we knew about were jeans. (A colleague attended a dinner at a restaurant where four of the women at her table, including her, wore leopard print.)
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