So different and yet we dress the same

8 October 2005

Last night, Suzy came over to pick me up for a Wetherspoons trip. Once more we found that we were inadvertently far too co-ordinated with what we were wearing – I provide photographic proof (click the pic for the flickr set). Despite our quite different styles, we are getting pretty good at this dressing the same malarkey.

So off we went to Wetherspoons. We hadn’t been standing at the bar long before a merry man bowled up to me and asked if I was ok, was I being served? I told him I was fine, that I was with Suzy. He misheard this as ‘sister’ and consequently asked me if I had any brothers and how many? Then there came the confusion over “no sisters? I thought she was your sister?”. We told him we weren’t sisters and I added, “though we are well coordinated.”

Merry man took this opportunity to examine what Suzy was wearing and discovered her knackered dunlops peeking out from her trousers. Drunken beration thereof started, followed by how he liked women to look feminine, blah blah blah. Suzy had to get him to move more than once as he had stepped between the two of us and kept turning his back to me. He apologised profusely each time it was pointed out to him. “It’s British, the British are rude,” he said. No they’re not, it’s just that drunks are drunk.

The guy wasn’t offensive to the eyes to look at and had obviously put a bit of effort into his appearance for his night out at the bottom of a beer glass and he requested that we give him a mark out of ten. I began to look him up and down in exaggerated fashion, at which point he said, “don’t look at my nuts!” I pointed out that I wasn’t, I was actually looking at his feet, but this didn’t stop his hushed tones in my ear about how his nuts were only small. More than once.

The barwench had done the double rum part of my rum and coke and held up my glass as she filled it with coke from the tap. This started merry man off, “no, stop! are you trying to make her sick? She’ll never sleep!” and he confessed to me that he didn’t like caffeine. My drink was put down on the bar and in trying to be chivalrous, merry man passed it down to me, slopping it across my hand as he went. Suzy paid for our drinks and we went to find somewhere to sit, leaving merry man to keep the local breweries solvent on his own.

While we were in the pub, I texted Lauren and Helen to arrange a meal (pronounced “miwl”) as my rum and coke ran around my head making spelling more difficult than usual. We’re all going to Bromley next Wednesday (well, Lauren’ll already be there) and will continue our worldwide culinary adventures with Belgium.