SAM WHITAKER | Culture
HOLY HYDRATION
Dunedin students have flocked to local pubs to celebrate new laws letting Kiwis buy booze on Good Friday without the hassle of ordering a side of fries.
Otago University students Jonty and Matt, who’d come from their Castle Street flat, the “Piss Shack,” said the new laws meant they could finally enjoy a few cold ones at their local without having to pretend they were there for the “gastronomy.”
“Oh man, it’s so good to have the bars open normally. Usually, we’ve only got empties lying around at home,” Jonty said—referring to the knee-deep pile of boxes and bottles he’d climbed over just to get to the door.
Matt, wearing a Speights dressing gown and a single Highlanders-branded Croc, nodded in agreement.
“Previously, you had to buy a ‘substantial meal’ just to get a glass of Vitamin Speights, which is a violation of our basic human rights I reckon. I don’t want a $60 wagyu steak, I want a pint and a sense of belonging.
Now, if I wake up on Good Friday and realise the only liquid in the flat is the condensation on the windows, I can just wander down to the pub like a civilized breather.”
The pair argued that the ‘liquid lunch” initiative wasn’t just about binge drinking, but about honouring the spirit of the holiday.
“Easter is about rebirth, isn’t it?” Jonty said. “Nothing says ‘rebirth’ like cracking a cold one before the sun rises at like midday in Dunedin. It’s a spiritual experience, really.”
A spokesperson from the Otago University Students’ Association (OUSA) noted that the law change significantly reduces the risk of students resorting to “Plan B.”
“Before this law, students were just stockpiling room-temperature boxes, acting as if they’d need all this alcohol to stay warm in their damp flats,” the spokesperson said.
“By Saturday night, this meant most flats, which are traditionally kept very neat, were basically health hazards. Letting them go to a managed environment like a pub is just common sense.”
As for the critics who suggest that celebrating a religious holiday with plenty of pints might be “a bit much,” Jonty was quick to dismiss them.
“With the price of tuna and 2-minute noodles these days, a pint of stout is basically a meal replacement,” he explained, gesturing to the pub menu he was using as a coaster.
“It’s made of grain. That’s one of the food groups. We’re just being health-conscious,” he explains, as a group of students at the next table move to dismiss the waiter who’d come to take their order, saying “we’re just here for the pints, thanks.”
More to come.
