It has been brought to my attention that men are labouring under some kind of delusion and I feel for the good of womankind they need to be snapped out of it.
I work in a pub on Saturday nights, I find it a useful little earner in that it keeps me busy and it's cash in hand work; make me feel less guilty about buying that £3 bean salad from EAT which is not even the size of my fist. So, I am a part-time barmaid, and to be clear I am YOUNG part-time barmaid. Less than 25 years old for god sake, and the gentleman in question was aware of this. The gentleman in question is 36 (and no, I do not think that is old, merely a little old for me) but he looks older. He is also a beard wearing, bitter drinking, national trust gardener who is rumoured to pick up road kill to take it home to cook and frankly, looks like he might. Now none of that has ever really mattered to me, why would it? He seemed like a nice enough chap, and I never would have dreamed in a thousand years of thinking of him a potential anything in any way, shape or form. Just a guy who drank in the pub.
Now here comes the part to burst thousands of male bubbles... brace yourselves. Any good barmaid worth her taps knows how to flirt with the customers. Now listen closely cause this concerns you; we flirt/smile/chat and you stay in the pub and have a good time - you buy more beer - everyone's happy. WE DO NOT FANCY YOU. You do not have a chance to bed the barmaid; we do not find you irresistible. We are paid to do this! Plus if there is no one else in the bar, who else are we going to talk to?!? Do you think we like Rod Stewart and Abba that much that we want to listen to it uninterrupted? Hell no! At best, bar work is tedious and repetitive, so chatting to people is the only entertainment we got going for us.
Now I knew Crusty Man took a shine to me by the time he leered at me in the most grotesque fashion I have ever seen, a true old fashioned up and down with a signature lip curl; it's the sort of look that makes a girl stand up and tug her skirt down. After that I started seeing the signs... Girls you know what I mean. We can tell when you fancy us, you may think you are hiding it, but your not. It's obvious. Hell, we probably know before you do! So I'm seeing the signs and thinking, are you serious? You have a crush at your age? Oh No, not a crush, he thinks he has a chance. On what planet did that happen? I am barely into my twenties and I scrub up quite well thank you very much; I could have my pick of a number of men and this Flaky old tree climber thinks he can bowl up and ask me out? So he turns up, freshly shaved, just popping in for a quick pint before he goes on to another party. Yeah. Right. He wanted me to see him all tarted up, men are so predictable. He hands me a card, tells me the company he work for are having a party next week and if I want to go I should call him. I was so shocked I stammered out thanks and put the card on the side, and then he downed the rest of his pint and scampered off.
I ask you! I was mortified! I dare say I will never live it down. So to prevent any further confusion, I'm telling you now, the next time you think you have a chance with the barmaid, stand in front of the mirror, take a good long look at your self and ask yourself one question. Do I resemble her Dad?