Around 8 in the evening on one night last week a young, 18 to be precise, lady walked into the pub and proceeded to have a tantrum…
“I can’t believe it, why would you do that to me? I was at the BLOODY church, stood at the alter in my dress and you didn’t turn up!”
Me: “Ermmm…”
“You’re a bastard a total bastard how could you do that to me? You left me crying in my wedding dress!”
“Babe we said Totland church, I was there waiting where were you?”
“Don’t give me that I KNOW where you were you were drunk, on OUR wedding day you were drunk what a bastard”
At this point she collected herself, straightened her clothes and smiled sweetly “Disaronno and diet coke please, Love you Gav”
This is not a scene from a movie or a joke this is actually what happens when you are not just a pub landlord but the landlord of the Plough.
Two groups of tourists witnessed this scene and I am not quite sure what one of the fellas was actually thinking when he noted that I was ‘in trouble’. Did he think that marrying half your age was normal? or did he think I was offering ‘Jim fixed it for me badges’? We will never know but I hope he reads this one day and it takes him someway to understanding the strange version of humour that we have here.
I have a customer who feels that the arrival of shorts is an opportunity to molest me. When I say that she puts her hands up the legs of my shorts when my hands are full I am not doing the situation justice. The hand in question travels so far up it is often stopped only by my waistband!
I have growled and barked on many an occasion but said customer is adamant that it’s just a bit of fun despite it being entirely one-sided. This weekend, whilst removing a parasol I felt a hand up my leg and barked. The hand was removed and reappeared on the other leg which resulted in “if you keep touching my leg I will kick you in the f*cking face”.
You would have thought that this was a reasonably clear demonstration of unhappiness but when some other customers pointed out this interpretation they were met with “oh he loves it”. It was at this point that simple genius came into play, a perfect demonstration that the best drunk logic comes from another drunk:
“He has just offered you a free kick in the face I don’t think he likes it at all”
And in that one sentence we seem to have resolved the trauma of wearing shorts in the pub, simple genius.
I will leave you with an update on project garden. We are now entering week 12 and have removed two walls, around 90 tons of soil and 20 tons of rubbish (concrete, brush etc). If this sounds significant then allow me to put it in some perspective, we have just cleared the corner and are now actually in the garden area. To paraphrase an old ad ‘if Carlsberg did gardening’
