by SEAN POWER
I don’t know why I did it. But I did.
At 1AM on Monday morning, I wrote an e-mail to the CEO of Australia’s leading brewery – a man I’d never met – asking for some help with stocking the eskies at my 21st birthday. Don’t laugh. I’m serious.
Winding down from a big weekend planning my birthday bash with my Dad, I was contemplating how I could help with the booze buying. It wasn’t something expected from his end, but something I wanted to do from mine. I figured that I’d stolen enough from his shed over the last four years – it was finally time to balance the books.
For a bloke just earning enough to pay rent in Sydney, paying for slabs to hydrate a hundred people wasn’t an option. But then, somewhere in my late night brainstorming session, trying to get the CEO of a ten-billion-dollar company to open up my e-mail and agree to send me a few free brews, seemed like a much more reasonable and rational idea.
I mean – the longest and most successful relationship I’ve ever had has been with one of their products – Carlton Draught. Surely they would remember the name of one of their most dedicated customers?