Today started at midday…determined not to be caught out and be fraught with despair at being made a ‘fool’ this April (at least not intentionally), I’d followed Jordan and the kids lead of having a lie in until midday! You know, because if you try and trick/prank anyone after midday, then you are indeed the fool…Ok so mine may have been a strategic lie in, Jo and the kids had no idea what day it was…lazy bastards, I wonder if they know what April Fools Day is? 🤔
Anyways, after completely pissing away our morning, we decided that we wanted to do something with the bank holiday; back to work tomorrow so best do something as a family. No idea what we were going to do mind, we’ve been brainstorming ideas since yesterday and come up with a grand total of fuck all. The only input the kids had was Folly Farm, which we frequent way too often, and myself and Jo weren’t much better, suggesting the Swansea Streetfood Festival, which would have been great if we had a lot of money to piss away and kids that enjoyed something more than chicken nuggets and burgers.
Fortunately, Jordan had a brainwave, brought about by subliminal social media advertising, and remembered they TGI Fridays were having a ‘kids eat free’ offer that capitalised on parents love of anything ‘free’, despite the obvious false economy where the adult meals are already priced way above an acceptable standard for the standard of offerings available. Fuck it, it’s bank holiday, let’s treat ourselves to the same meals we can buy in the Food Warehouse for triple the price, with the added bonus of an overcrowded restaurant and an additional 50 screaming kids that were sure to raise my anxiety levels to Death Con 1…sounds like a plan!!! Oh and we’ll pop across for a bit of mini golf in Bunkers while we’re there…that place looks like a laugh.
Late as usual (who’d have thought there would be traffic on a bank holiday?!), foolishly (it’s after 12…) booked a table dangerously close to our ETA if we were spared the traffic, now we were buggered…or were we? I channelled my inner Dom Toretto and hammered it to Swansea…was it Fast? Was it Furious? Hell no, I’m a law abiding citizen and stuck to the various speed limitations; the Fast and Furious element came from Jo and Gray, being dropped off in the road to leg it to our table. It must have looked like a reverse snatch and grab where the kidnappers no longer decided that the ransom was worth perusing…to be fair, after an hour with Gray and Jo, you could see why.
One problem sorted, now to park the van, in a multi-storey where arguably the van didn’t fit (I say arguably because it depends if I wanted to keep the roof or not)…always fun to play limbo with a parking structure. 6.9ft clearance? How the hell am I supposed to know if that’s attainable??! Under the swinging bar we go that give an indication meter of bugger all…yes I heard the antenna hitting it, but I can live without that for the sake of an extra few minutes walk. Not having balls big enough to just chance the height restriction, I had the brilliant idea to u turn on the ramp (a skill I now possess) and visualise the entry (no innuendo please)…success!! Did I look like a fool again thinking I had brought a monster truck to a car park? Yes! But did it ease my little mind? Yes!…that’s a win.
Right, on to food, bloody hell it’s busy here, almost as if TGI Fridays had accomplished their task of roping in as many families with small children as possible under the pretence of a free meal…ahh, you sneaky bastards have won it. This place is like Paddy’s market or Paddy Malinkys fair as Grandma would (and did) say…by the way, I’m not sure if there is a hint of prejudicial slur in there, though Grandma will protest innocence.
Right, what’s on offer? Menu has been slimmed down, and prices have been hiked up…£20 for Fajitas is madness!! At least we have the free kids meals ey? but only if we downloaded the app, and signed up for all the marketing bullshit…class, knew there’d be a catch.
Food comes and there’s a grand total of bugger all difference in the plates of food to justify a £3 difference in the kids meals, good thing they are free today init. Some lovely charred chicken that Alaska refused to eat, and a rock hard roll to accompany both the chicken and cheeseburgers. Guys I know they are free, but put some effort in mun, the kids can’t live off chips and gallons of Mayonnaise. I mean they will, but they shouldn’t.
Adults meals were half decent I guess, Fajitas, Chicken fingers and Jordans trademarked double starters and we were pretty well full. Just in time for one of Alaskas now daily tantrums…ah the joys of a 3 year old. Caught early mind, you can snap her out of it like some sort of hypnotist, something we are becoming pro at…maybe there is a gap in the market we can exploit…
Bill please bud, had enough of being ignored for the last half hour…£84??!! Madness, any chance I can exploit your offers for the kids eat free and add a little side course of Blue Light Discount? £57? Much better thank you. Quick leg it before they decide to revoke our privilege…it’s golfing time!!
On to Bunkers then…fancied trying this out for a while, kind of like a hipster mini golf with splashed of pop culture chucked in for good measure…Simpsons, Stranger Things, Game of Thrones and all that jazz. Pretty boss and badass, and with the added benefit of a waitress in the prowl amongst the golf course to take drinks orders incase you had reached mind numbing frustration watching a 6 and 3 year old attempt to put a ball in 6 tries. If only I wasn’t driving….
Anyways, we started off with a round of picking balls and sizing the kids up for the right clubs…Extra short for Jordan please bud, yeah, the one just a bit smaller than Alaska’s, she’s only little. Gray was only slightly offended to be downsized on his club and almost went all Negan on the cashier…sorry bud, wooooo!
Mags opted not to suffer the same fate as me and Jo, and instead decided to explore the cocktail menu and the various drinks offers…see you in a bit Mags, try not to get too hammered and look like a crazy lady who has been neglectfully dumped in a booth whilst your family goes to enjoy themselves. I had told her that the waiters bring her drinks topless, which spurred her on. Damn these 12 holes were gonna be hard work…all holes were a nightmare, which we should have guessed after hole 1 when we discovered Grayson and Alaska had bugger all clue how to hold a club, let alone hit the ball…the place was getting breezy and we feared a hurricane with all the air shots going on…we were not to see a Happy Gilmore style golf pro I fear.
Following 12 holes of hell…a name I am insisting Bunkers now change their name to, where Alaska beat Grayson through continual cheating, Grayson was overly honest, Jordan tried her best, and ultimately I won…we were done and dreading heading back to see what state Mags was in. To be fair, we had a good time, and the course was pretty cool, and the kids had a great time. Grayson got pretty good and Alaska couldn’t give a shit. The last hole would have been cool if we’d bothered to do it properly, but we felt pressured by the onlooking public, waiting for a 3 year old to hit a hole in 1 (she actually did one time funny enough).
Suffice to say, we didn’t take up the opportunity at a discounted extra 12 holes, and I was content to be declared the winner(self declaration is fine right). There were parades and everything. To be fair though, Alaska was the real winner, she’d wee’d in the toilet twice…a feat more challenging than keeping Mags off the Pornstar Martinis. Well done Alaska, only to continue in this form and cease pissing your pants now please.
Still feeling the high of success on the golf course, I decided to treat everyone to the best Ice cream ever…Joes Ice Cream. Yes it’s more expensive in pounds per weight than gold bullion, but man is it worth it. Off to the overcrowded Ice Cream parlour to spend my hard earned winnings where we bump into my mate ‘DJ Dave’. A friend of mine whose music the kids bloody love. Grayson was starstruck (love him) and even bragged about it to Alaska who was gutted she hadn’t met the Rave King of Swansea. It’s ok Loo, maybe some other time.
And that concludes our eventful bank holiday Monday…time to return home to chill.
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