Deja vu

Yesterday night was my first real opportunity to get to know the regulars of the pub. I worked Friday night too, but its too busy on a Friday to have the occassional conversation with a customer sitting at the bar.

I arrived after managing to stay awake through my break, and felt somewhat ready for the evening. Sitting at the bar was a man I was later told is commonly known as 'Stinky Brian'. If we were anywhere near water or the sea I would have believed him to be your typical wisened old fisherman, prematurely aged by the sea, the sun and excessive quantities of ale. He even smells somewhat like fish, which gives rise to the name. He sits at the bar with an expression of impending doom, like a man who knows that its only a matter of time before Death deals the final blow, or someone takes away his drink; either of which would be equally disasterous. He sits directly in front of the glass washer, which means that you cant actually avoid standing directly in front of him. He leaned over to me after I had been on shift for 10minutes and asked in a very soft, drink muddled voice, "'ave ya seen me phone, luv? I aint seen it. You seen it?" No sir, I havent. Let me check with the staff.

I checked with the staff, and all assured me he had lost the phone about a year previously, and just to keep saying I would give it to him if I find it. I told him exactly that and turned to speak to the next customer. My customer ordered a standard round, but was in a very excited mood as he was on his way to Greece the next day. He decided to celebrate this by ordering a couple of shots. One for him and one for me. One of the joys of working in a pub run by heavy drinkers is that I can drink on duty. Legendary. I accepted the shot and continued on.

The next guys made me feel old. They looked about 10 years old, not a beard hair among them, so naturally I ID'd them, and they were all 19! One of them offered me a drink. Thanks very much. At this point I wondered how drunk I could be and still make a passable imitation of working.

I headed back to a wave from Mr Greece and was told in no uncertain terms that I would be drinking another shot. Yay! I had just gotten to the point when more drinks suddenly seemed like a brilliant idea. He handed accross the money, with a lingering hand on mine, and a long stare into my eyes. Oh dear. Suddenly I hear: "Oi luv. You seen me phone? I know its 'ere somewhere." No sir, sorry.

I turned back to the 19year olds, who were making up for their low number of years with a high number of drinks. One looks me up and down. "You new? I can show you about town, luv. Whats your phone number? We can start with my place." Oh. My. God. I just got chatted up by a prepubescent chav.

"You there, luv. I lost me phone. You seen it? I aint seen it." No sir, fuck off sir, go somewhere else sir (I thought to myself).

I went to go and bitch to a fellow staff member, but before I could say anything he asked me if I could pop down to the cellar and change a keg, as he was mid order. No problem, I popped down, changed the barrel, and returned to try bitch again. Before I could speak, he says "thanks hun. Its so nice to have a girl around here who knows what they are doing. I mean, I could never sleep with 'Caroline' for example, cause if she cant even learn how to change a keg, whats the chances she can learn in bed?" It took my slightly addled brain a few minutes to work out if I was indeed seeing a come-on in there or not.

"You seen me phone, luv?" No, you stupid drink steeped old fart of a fake fisherman, I have NOT seen your bloody phone (I thought to myself. At some point thought would become speach, and I was getting nervous).

Mr Greece waved frantically for the next round and I delivered it with the required 2 shots, which were rapidly downed by me and him. "So what you doing after work? Come back to mine and have a drink." Sorry mate, I have a man. "Oh really where is he then? He is in the States right now. "Well then, you have the 'different continent' rule, dont you then." I sighed and walked away.

"Oi luv, you seen me..." I turned to find that Stinky had fallen asleep mid sentence. I took the glass out of his hand, poured the remaining drink down the sink and woke him up. "Dont wake me up! You should be workin, not wakin me up. Wheres me drink?" You finished it before you fell asleep. "Awrite, luv. I'm off to me bed. You comin?"

I am not exceptionally pretty. I am not exceptionally busty. I just keep living in small towns and communities desperate for fresh meat of the human female variety. God knows whats going to happen to my ego when I move back to the city and find I am one of many and no longer remarkable. On second thoughts, should I stay?