I would love to know who came up with the whole concept of the ice bar. It’s like a group of people got together to think of the most daft novelty idea they could, and then charged the idiots who fall for it a bomb.
Realistically though it’s got to be one of the most pointless and unnecessary ideas of this century. That’s probably a bit of an exaggeration, I mean things like the Nazi regime was a bit of a fucking unnecessary idea. Am I allowed to mention the Nazi’s in a light hearted post about a room full of ice? Probably not but what’s done is done, let’s all move on.
As I was saying it’s a daft idea, but people buy into it – myself included (although I’m probably not the best example as I have no self control around novelty items, as proved by the £20 BBQ sausage sword I bought my Dad “for a laugh).
I’m digressing. So there we were, at Melbourne’s Chill On, handing over £60 to sit in a room the size of the cupboard I lived in in University – and a similar temperature – but we were getting a free cocktail so happy days.
Of course, it wasn’t until we had handed our cash over and were about to step inside that they told us we couldn’t take our personal cameras inside.
I was livid. Seriously though, how out of order is that? $30 each to stand in a room for half an hour without even being able to take a photo. Nothing to divert our attention away from the stabbing pains in our fingers but to gingerly sip our 200ml of watered down cocktail, desperately making it last so as not to fork out another $15 for another. And if we wanted to BUY a photo of ourselves, the only physical evidence that this wasn’t all a cocktail enduced dream, it would cost another $15.
Absolutely fucking livid.
But we were suited and booted so in we went, and in all fairness the inside was actually pretty cool. We were surrounded by beautiful ice sculptures (have a look at the photos… OH WAIT, you can’t!) and literally everything was made of ice, (I am aware this is the point, but I mean literally EVERYTHING from the bar itself to our glasses.)
Although we weren’t allowed to take our own cameras in… (did I mention I was fuming?) there were a couple of stationary ones dotted around inside. The idea was simple; you press the green button and smile… $15 later, Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your Aunt and you have a cracking mugshot.
Not as easy as it sounds. For us, it was almost exactly like that episode of Friends when Ross gets a spray tan.
We pressed the button, we smiled… and something flashed behind us.
Bit awkward… especially as we could hear the lad behind the bar trying to stifle a laugh.
Sheepishly we turned around, pressed the button again, smiled (not quite as naturally as before)… and waited.
There’s only so long you can hold a smile before you start to look like your just gurning. So I ran forwards to press it again when it flashed in my face, leaving a beautiful shot of me displayed on the screen that…as I wasn’t going to PAY $15 for, I have gone to the trouble of drawing for you.
Eventually when we had managed to fill up the entire screen of, what can only be described as a retarded mugshot gallery, the lad behind the bar composed himself enough to come and take one for us… leaving us with this photo.
I guess having to pay for a photo isn’t all bad, it’s not often you capture a photo where there is genuine laughter behind the smiles.