Tales From the Pub # I Lose Track Now.
I am In the Pub.
Sat at the bar on this occasion. Me at one end, Old Guy at the End Of the Bar at the other.
I am sipping my drink, staring into space, wishing everything was different but knowing it won't be.
A girl, eighteen if she's a day, comes up to order a drink.
Tall, dark, fuck-off look about her. I've seen her a few times. She has one of those fantastic faces. Could so easily be ugly, could so easily be beautiful. And just wavers in between. Brilliant. Massive knockers, tiny waist. I say this totally impartially of course, having been ruined for all other women. But I'm not blind. Anyway, she reminds me of someone.
Old Guy fancies himself this evening. He leans over.
Old Guy: Y'naw hen, ye've got a body off of BayWatch.
Girl: Mmmm.
She is clearly less-than-bowled-over by the amorous attentions of a man at least five times her age, who is visibly pissed, and appears to have the bulk of his Sunday lunch down his shirt front.
Old Guy is a bit narked about the fact that this young lady has not immediately swooned at his best line. I wait with baited breath. My God, I think, any second now he is going to call her a lesbian.
I am wrong.
Old Guy: Aye. And a face off of bliddy CrimeWatch.
Superb!
Girl: [without any obvious malice or anger] Oh fuck off will you.
I finish my drink and leave.
Sat at the bar on this occasion. Me at one end, Old Guy at the End Of the Bar at the other.
I am sipping my drink, staring into space, wishing everything was different but knowing it won't be.
A girl, eighteen if she's a day, comes up to order a drink.
Tall, dark, fuck-off look about her. I've seen her a few times. She has one of those fantastic faces. Could so easily be ugly, could so easily be beautiful. And just wavers in between. Brilliant. Massive knockers, tiny waist. I say this totally impartially of course, having been ruined for all other women. But I'm not blind. Anyway, she reminds me of someone.
Old Guy fancies himself this evening. He leans over.
Old Guy: Y'naw hen, ye've got a body off of BayWatch.
Girl: Mmmm.
She is clearly less-than-bowled-over by the amorous attentions of a man at least five times her age, who is visibly pissed, and appears to have the bulk of his Sunday lunch down his shirt front.
Old Guy is a bit narked about the fact that this young lady has not immediately swooned at his best line. I wait with baited breath. My God, I think, any second now he is going to call her a lesbian.
I am wrong.
Old Guy: Aye. And a face off of bliddy CrimeWatch.
Superb!
Girl: [without any obvious malice or anger] Oh fuck off will you.
I finish my drink and leave.
posted by Tired Dad at
11:37 pm
7 Comments:
Uh-oh.
Things can't be that bad, TD... can they?!
The next best thing to pulling a bird is putting an attractive one down. At least that could be an explanation for the oldest swinger in towns behaviour.
gibbonfiddler: Yes they are but I am trying not to let it leak into my less-than-amusing shit blog. And failing, obviously. I don't even know I'm doing it.
Amanda:Thanks for concern. See above. I don't know. You don't try, you don't get. Although these guys should have worked-out by now they are never getting.
RD: Old Red Eyes is Back.
Like him - food splattered shirt n all.
You take care n all mate.
aww...But I LOVE women with those types o' looks.
me and daughter call it the almosts ..
she's almost beautiful..
there's glory in almost
hope it gets better mr td
Dinners: The persistance is admirable. Although, if I were to try, I'd make sure my shirt was devoid of food.
C: Never mind 'almost'. These lucky women are FASCINATING. Their faces look different every other minute. Traditional beauty is, in thew long term, boring.
Puppy Guy: Thanks. Young man, I know you have a lot on your plate so I suggest you concentrate on yourself. My problems are not comparable.
Look. All. Life round at Tired Towers is at an all time low. That's it. I don't intend whinging about it, but it seems I make reference to this fact in every post without even realising. I shall make sure I TRY and stop.
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