‘Yes, the newspaper report is right. A lot of this course is bogus.’
This was the first sentence out of the instructor’s mouth at 8am this morning when my friend Amy and I rocked up to the RSA course, unknowingly about to waste 6.5 hours of our lives that we will never have again.
This is the article he’s referring to. It was published in this morning’s Telegraph. A couple of their journo’s went undercover and discovered that the RSA isn’t all the government bodies’ seem to think it is. Ground breaking stuff that is. I could have told them that for free.
So, it’s 8am, I’ve already been up for 2.5 hours (owing to our kryptonite child) and after declaring the course a farce, the instructor then proves it by spending the next 95 minutes entering our details into the computer system one by tedious one.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to resort to instant coffee in a styrofoam cup. Does it get any worse than that folks? At 9.35 we began the course but not to worry, we stopped for more instant coffee at 10.15. I just couldn’t bring myself to have a second cup, and I didn’t even get up to stretch my legs as we hadn’t been sitting down for long enough to need it.
The course material – as expected – was dryer than a popcorn fart, but luckily for us, the instructor was not.
‘What’s the definition of a responsible adult?’ He wanted to know. ‘I mean, if you have a 16 year old girl and her 18 year old boyfriend, is he a responsible adult? If they live together, Centrelink considers him responsible. And let’s face it, if you move out of home at 16 and 18, you’re going to be getting money from Centrelink.’
It’s never too early for a spot of inappropriate humour.
Next we talked about irresponsible drinking, which quickly became a competition to see who knew the most drinking games. Amy and I offered beer pong and strip poker.
Amy, by the way, will be joining the HY team after she returns from gallivanting about South America. I forgot to take a picture of her, but she is classy and fabulous and rather like the Tonks character in the Harry Potter series. Every time I see her, her hair is a different colour.
A 40 minute lunch came shortly thereafter, and we recommenced with a discussion about underage drinking.
‘I was 12 when I started,’ the instructor says, ‘how about you?’
Just as he’d suggested, I had duly written down only the notes he’d written on the board in black marker, so you can imagine my delight when he handed out the exam and all I had to do was, in fact, rewrite those notes one by one next to the appropriate question.
And there you have it folks. I can now (according to the NSW Office of Liquor, Gaming and Racing) responsibly serve you all alcohol.
I deliberately didn’t include the name of the company where we attended the course, because it didn’t seem fair to get the poor bloke into trouble. He didn’t write it, he was just trying to improve the material.
But i’ll tell you this for free, if you too have to donate brain cells to get your RSA, go with a friend, sit up the back, take lots of snacks and only write down what they tell you.
All the rest is bogus.