Premix Kings is, from what I can gather - and this is difficult because when you operate on the fringes of what constitutes Responsible Service of Alcohol details a sketchy - a heavily discounted bottle store that markets and sells fucked up alcohol to fucked up people. They recently opened a store in Punchbowl, Sydney, so of course I went there on a Monday morning to check it out
Premix King is about a 10-15 minute stroll from Punchbowl station. It’s near a discount vacuum cleaner warehouse which is a great sign.
There’s something not quite right about walking around PMK - it’s like shopping for clothes at a supermarket. There’s heaps of colourful bottles of strong drinking alcohol duct taped to other colourful bottles of less strong drinking alcohol and the staff are dressed like clowns that work at regional motocross events.
We bought 6 Fruit Tingle and Coffee Liqueur shots, a $10 “vodka pack” (spirit and mixer), 4 pack of “Big Shots” and a bottle of “Jam Doughnut” and a can of “Absolut Botanik” as insurance
First drink was the Fruit tingles shots. Firstly the pros (or pro) - at 50 cents a shot this is about as much of a good time as you can have for 50 cents. The shit thing is, like all drinks from PMK, the terrible taste. It’s hard to describe what it is you’re actually drinking - it sort of smells like an airport (the part where the planes take off). The “fruit” part comes through as more an aftertaste and does absolutely nothing to nullify the sickly tannins of liquid airport juice.
Again, I simply couldn’t figure out what this “Adults Only” drink was - it kinda reminded me of those people you meet in city clubs wearing cheap suits and hair gel that can’t explain what their job is: “So.. you’re a consultant? In what exactly?” “Business, like a business consultant” “yeah but.. what is it you actually do, like what’s.. your job?” “Like I work for this consulting company” .. and it doesn’t really check out at all so you shrug your shoulders and give all your gal mates the heads up to not leave their drinks unattended. After my second 10% ABV “Big Shot” I had a strange, innate and mild to burning desire to coward punch a cop.
Calling this tepid swill “Jam Doughnut” like it’s some kind of cute cocktail is just so incredibly laughable considering it objectively tastes like rotten milk mixed with a tablespoon of white wine that’s been in a glove box for about 3 years blended with used chewing gum. The colour is truly heinous, like pureed sewerage, hence the opaque bottle. And finally:
They duct taped one of these “Trivoski” bottles to a bottle of Schweppes Raspberry and I’m going to put this down as the worst thing I have EVER tasted in my life, and I’ve drunken goon out of a fucking ashtray. We nicknamed this drink “Harambe here I come-be” because the narrative of a gorilla being shot dead with a bullet in his fucking skull is very close to the experience of consuming this fuckhead syrup. Again, not much information on the bottle as to what I’m drinking or where it was made - there’s an address on the side that’s clearly an empty office block somewhere in North Sydney.
Why do they duct tape it all together? What the fuck is wrong with us? What next, duct taping toothbrushes with toothpaste? Dune Rats records with Little Fat Lamb? How is this legal? If you walk into a store that’s premise is to get you fucked up, and you don’t actually know how to fuck yourself up, you shouldn’t be given ANY directions on how to do it more efficiently. Also the staff here treat you with way too much respect. You know when you buy cooking wine or some similar loneliness companion from a normal bottlo and the attendant gives you that “heh.. things aren’t going too well are they mate?” look, and you feel like a complete fucking loser? You’ve then gotta make up some bullshit lie about it being for a bolognaise or sangria? At PMK they scan everything through like you’re an actual proper person, they don’t bat an eyelid - gazing out the door as they hand you your bag - they almost give you a little nod towards the park outside: “over there mate,” they’re telling you, “good little spot over by the grandstand, you can watch the school kids play footy, you’ve had a tough morning mate, you’ve earned it; go fuck yourself up”
All in all a respectable, friendly, small local business doing a good honest trade of ruining the lives of the local community. After drinking everything I felt somewhat clear in my head but couldn’t stand up properly; I kept bumping into things at home and my eye has this weird twitch that hasn’t gone away since this morning - why, I wish PMK was around when I was 14 years old !!! Aside from a few rogue franchisees, I recommend everyone support their local Premix King.
Premix King
1484 Canterbury Rd
2194 Punchbowl, New South Wales, Australia
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