I went to an impromptu BBQ about a year ago at one of our really good friend’s houses. It was meant to be just the hosts, Kelly and Luke, and us. At the last-minute Kelly’s brother Trevor asked if he could join us. No problem normally, right? We’d never met Trev but I’d heard plenty about him for quite a number of years. What I’d heard was all bad.

Trev is a… never-bring.

Like most Hornswood (being the dynamic little suburbs from Hornsby to Chatswood) people, when we go to a friend’s house we bring whatever we want to drink, plus a bit extra for the hosts and a few nibbles as a contribution. However not a “never-bring,” no sir. They turn up with zippo, regularly.

Don’t think the fact they have turned up with nothing, means that a “never-bring” goes hungry or thirsty. Oh no. They drink as if they’re the lovechild of Mel Gibson and David Hasselhoff and they eat like the offspring of 70’s Elvis and George Christensen.

That night (I was admittedly on the lookout for never-bring-shenanigans due to Lukey’s heads-up), it didn’t take long for Trev to oblige. When he helped himself to the first of my beautiful low-carb craft beers, I didn’t say a word. After the second and third of my refreshing beverages were being washed down his throat, I held my tongue. Despite him also turning out to be a major whinger and oozing tall poppy syndrome.

When he got up to go to the toilet, my wife spoke softly to me.

My wife – “Now I know Luke told you how much Trevor annoys him and he has had three of your beers, but remember he’s Kelly’s brother! You brought twelve, you’ve got plenty left.”

Me – “But the freaken never-bring is drinking faster than me.” I was feeling all the brother-in-law-rage poor Lukey had pent up over many years.

The hosts had gone to the kitchen and Trev returned to the table, with a fourth one of my beers. He cracked it open and looked closely at the label.

The never-bring – “Low-carb… this is a fucking girl’s drink!”

Me – “OH FOR FUCKS SAKE. If you don’t like it here’s an idea, BRING YOUR OWN!! You’re a fucking never-bring and you’re complaining about the type of beer which I brought, of which you have drunk four, without even fucking asking. You never-brings have got a hide.”

The never-bring – “What’s your problem Jase? Tight?” The never-bring smirked at me and sipped my icy cold low-carb beer.

Me – “Jesus Christ Trev. Do you not see the irony in you calling me tight? Do you seriously think your company is so wonderful that you don’t have to contribute to the evening in any way? That the beers which your brother and I have provided somehow become shared property amongst the three of us?”

“I bring stuff,” he replied. This was a lie.

Me – “But you don’t Trev. You… don’t… If by some freakish occurrence some bloke happened to be giving away free six packs of beer out the front of Lukey’s house here tonight, and you were given no choice but to bring it in with you, I bet it’d be Tooheys New… and you’d end up drinking his Coronas! YOU’RE A NEVER-BRING TREV. You’re a burden on your family.”

Just then Kelly and Lukey returned to the veranda with the potato salad and garlic bread. My wife, Trev and I sat in obvious silence. Trev had an angry look on his face.

Kelly – “What’s happened?”

Me – “Your brother’s a never-bring,” I stated factually.

Kelly spun around and looked at her husband. “A what?”

Lukey – “Oh no”.

I gave Lukey a nod of contrition, meaning I’m sorry I dropped you in it mate, but what could I do?

I think it’s time, we the good people of Hornswood rise up and unite against the never-brings. They need to know that we are not going to put up with their advantage-taking ways any longer. Be they brother, sister, neighbour, friend or plumber, their time is nigh. If you know any of their kind, you must confront them. Like a writhing, screaming vampire we must drag them out into the sun. NEVER-BRINGS, YOU WILL TAKE ADVANTAGE NO LONGER. Your days are numbered.

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Thanks for reading. I write blogs oftentimes just to be able to claim when meeting a new person at a Hornswood party, that I am in fact… a writer (whereby my wife generally jumps in and proclaims “he’s actually NOT a writer”). If you could Share far and wide via the buttons below, that would be amazing. I write stuff for a few small companies, but I need to one day be a famous contributor to the noble art of blogging. And check out the brilliant new craft-beer home delivery business I have set up with a few North Shore dads (gettincrafty.com.au) Cheers