Just six months ago, The Golden Fleece Hotel was one of Melbourne’s roughest drinking holes, where only the wharfies of Port Melbourne feared to tread. Then it adapted to its surroundings of yuppies in Ed Hardy t-shirts. Yesteryear, the right choice of urinal meant avoiding a non-fatal stabbing in to the torso. Now your manhood is only threatened by the suggestion of a model that stands so intimidatingly large above each pisser that we had to adopt Gursky-style multiple photo manipulation to culminate the shot. Smooth, yeah? No matter what the era, her insinuations do present something of a catch-22: do you try impress her and risk taking a fist in the arse or remain boyishly puny as usual?