Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Friday, 15 January 2016
Well my dinner date with the beautiful 25 year-old was a bit of an event.
I arrived before her and sat quite close to a couple of nasty looking slobs who looked as though they were celebrating recent release from prison. They were on their 6th bottle of Champagne by the time my date arrived, and were quite loud, showing no signs of having eaten any food.
She sat down next to me and pretty soon she said that they were constantly staring at her. I said that if they kept it up I would have a word, and when I looked round at them, one of them made some sort of comment, so I started shouting at them to leave us alone. I went right in at the deep end, no messing about.
A little later, one of them made - quite loudly, but I didn't hear it - some sort of overtly sexual comment about me and my mixed-race friend, so this time I stood up, went to their table and created such a fuss that the whole restaurant came to a standstill. Yes, I was really shouting this time.
A waiter came over and I asked him to keep them under control before I lost mine, and he offered to re-seat us elsewhere. I refused to move - why should WE have had to move away from them - so he got them to move to the far-side of the restaurant, out of sight. They were remarkably compliant, like sheep with a shepherd.
The fat one (I had already caught his attention earlier by shouting, "Oi - Fatso!") came over a little later and I expected another scene, but he wanted to apologise for ruining our evening and shake my hand (why is it they always want to shake hands?) to which I reluctantly agreed.
Then the manager came over and apologised for the distress, adding that the entire meal, with an extra bottle of wine, was on the house.