Tales From the Bar Stool

Discussion in 'The Lamp and Sandbag II - The Tall Story Strikes B' started by Rocketeer, Jun 14, 2009.

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  1. thought I'd post this little bit her instead of the NAAFI where in probability it would be binned to the hole or 'critiqued' too severely..

    Anyway, I'm out at the local fine dining establishment.. Sit down decor to the left, bouncy night club to the right, and a bar/gathering place/holding are in the middle. So two pals and I are holding by the rail sipping a cold beverage and waiting for our table to be called.. Place is crowded but not packed.. when in ..well, waddles, a she/it 5x5x5 in sh!t brown velvet/velour track suit something... hard to tell as the person was so shapeless...

    " She " makes a beeline for the bar, right where we're gathered and without so much as an " excuse me " pushes between my buddy and me while we're engaged in some serious debate and bellies up to the bar, despite there already being folks on the ' wait list' ahead of her. Then I notice it.

    Across the rump of the suit in silver glitter capital letters, the word " GUESS"

    So I lean over to her as I plunk down my drink so it won't get tipped/spilt and say to her " You're a Man in disguise "
    She turns to me and says " What?"
    " You're a man in disguise, right?"
    " What are you talking about? "
    " Well, your butt says ' guess' so I'm guessing. "

    You know how when you say something sometimes in the din of a party or gathering there comes a moment when for no apparent reason the room just goes silent? Well, there we were, facing off on the subject when silence reigns.
    She: " Are you crazy? "
    Me: " Well, I just figured you had to be a man in drag because no self-respecting woman would ever let her ass get that big. "

    Much shrieking on her part, laughter from the patrons closest to the rail and, rather than lashing out at me as I expected she turns to a guy behind her and says " Are you going to do something about that? "

    I swing about and there is this equally huge guy, not fat, but wrestler muscled up and I'm thinking I'm going to need new set of teeth come morning. He's wearing a checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the requisite ballcap with some trucking logo on it and on one bicep the size of my thigh is a multi-coloured tat.

    I give him my best smile and say " Nice ink, Royal Horse Artillery? ".
    He stops. " always liked the big guns, buy you a drink? " I grin.

    She's turning maroon waiting for her knight to avenge her honour. " Did you hear what he said? Are you going to take that ? "
    he looked at her, then me and, I could see him weighing the alternatives. " Yeah, I heard, he offered me a drink.. I'll have a Guinness. "
    " What about me? " she screams.. by now there's a lot of interest in the outcome.
    " You can have a Diet Coke, your ass IS too big. "

    Never heard such loud and prolonged laughter emanating from one place in a long time. Don't think they stayed for the menu, she left to ' wait in the car' while, he, man of his word, had a Guinness..

    sometimes you get lucky and dodge the bullet.
     
  2. If true, it's class. if not... well it's still a good little story!
     
  3. maguire

    maguire LE Book Reviewer

    Like it… good drills.

    I’ll share one with you about an experience many moons ago. A younger Maguire used to work behind the bar of a *very* posh hotel in the North, opposite a certain television studio well known for it’s output of complete lowest common denominator shee-ite. (I’ll name no names, but its initials are Granada Television.)

    As a consequence of it’s location, you used to get an awful lot of television types in there, including the ‘stars’ of coronation street - who would range from the absolutely lovely (Mavis and Derek – total sweeties who were completely ace) to the completely loathed (for example the non-entities who played the Battersby’s – equally as chavvy off-screen as they were on).

    One of the reasonably civil types was the Kevin Kennedy – the bloke who played Curly Watts. He’s in one night with a few friends, and it’s about 3am. But as long as people want to drink, we’ll keep serving. Till there’s him, his friends, and a couple of women in town on a business trip. Of which, the good looking one is eyeing up my colleague D******, the ugly one is looking at me. Then the aforementioned Mr. Watts slides up to the bar and orders a new round of drinks.

    I start pulling the pints in an effort to get away from swamp donkey sat at the bar there, and in the process of which ask Curly if he’s still playing guitar – away from the TV work, he has his own band who used to tour quite regularly and put out the odd record. How do I know this? A friend’s father restores antique guitars, and once sold him a beautiful old fifties Gibson semi-acoustic – a gorgeous big old Eddie Cochran style affair. I ask him if he still has it, and we have a bit of a natter about guitars and music in general while I’m getting his round together.

    Swamp donkey and her mate are in earshot of all this, and turns to him and says ‘alright Curly – you got a band have you?’ and he says yeah, we’ve just played this place and we’ve got a record out next week. ‘What are they called then?’ He responds ‘we’re called ------- ‘(I forget who) – to which she says – and I’ll never forget this – ‘Oh yeah? Well, I’ve never fcuking heard of you so you must be fcuking sh1t.’

    I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone quite as annoyed or lose it that quickly as Kevin Kennedy did at that moment… we had to go in the office at the back of the bar to calm down, we were laughing so hard.
     
  4. When I was in the NI Civil Service, we had our "own" bar just accross the street in Belfast. Clientelle was mainly us NICS bods, but there were a few other non-NICS who were drinking buddies, one of whom was a bus driver.

    We didn't see him for a few weeks, and folks were wondering where he had got to.

    One Friday he showed up, and bellowed at the door "DRINKS ALL ROUND!"

    It was Peter Lavery, who had won £10.2 million on the National Lottery.

    Good night had by all.
     
  5. Went to the mall and, feeling peckish, stopped at the food court for some Chinese food at Pto Mein's Take Out.. While I'm sitting on the stool at the counter, gnawing on some Dim Sum, I look over at the store opposite.

    Video /Electronic Games outlet.. Big posters of Call of Duty and Warcraft something in the windows, ' lifesize' cutout of the guy from Halo, dump bin of discounted Playstation 2 games. While I'm musing over their offerings out of the shop comes two Space Lizards...made me check the Dim Sum for funny 'shrooms' but realized that it was just two losers in rubber suits. They began handing out coupons and flyers to passersby and scaring old ladies and kids in strollers..

    Suddenly, this vision of loveliness arrives from nowhere.. candy apple red impossibly high heels, skin tight Capri pants, clingwrap tank top artfully draped to reveal maximum cleavage...as she hobbles past the Lizards they are held motionless..
    Just after she passes by one turned to the other and says.
    " Obviously Mammmalian ."

    I choked on a noodle...
     
  6. So I'm sitting on a stool at the counter of my local greasy spoon enjoying a plate of eggs over easy and watching the hot yolk drip from my toast soldiers when I pick up on a commotion in a booth to my left.

    I glance over and take in a young woman with two small kids, a girl about 4/5 and a boy may be a year and a bit older. The kids are being, well, kids.. pushing, shoving, talking loud in their own ' language' while the woman is trying to get them interested in the menu she's perusing. She keeps asking "what do you want?" and the little girl is mouthing something unintelligible back , each time mom, is not grasping the kidspeak so she turns to the boy for translation.

    Turns out the girl is asking for a PBJ. Mom says, " What?" and is searching down the options on the kids menu for the item. The lad responds.. " she wants a PBJ!! Don't you know what that is?" Little girl is chanting PBJ<PBJ and Mom is getting flustered. " What? A Peanut Butter and Jelly ?? on toast, a sandwich? what?"

    The boy pipes up; " That's not what Daddy calls it."
    "What?"
    " PBJ: Purple Blow Job! " yells the boyo..

    Mom turns just the right shade of purple..

    I'm thinking Dad isn't getting a PBJ for breakfast when Mom gets home.