I was feeling a little put out. My good friend Giles, a splendid chap despite having a face like arse-pastry had arranged a double date for us both, with what he called, a couple of fillies.
It had been some time since I had found myself having to gussy up for a meeting with a female. There are of course my dalliances with Lady Fotheringham but that's more like throwing sausages at an angry Alsation.
I dressed myself as a gentleman does. With casual flair and sophistication - Top hat, tails and of course my silver topped cane. A quick application of Fingerer Jack (my favourite scent) and I was done. I called for Morris to bring the car round.
I met Giles at the bar in the club.
Ho Boomer! Are you ready to beard the Wizard!
He winked several times in quick succession. I wondered if he had a palsy. I curled my top lip in reply and rapped the tip of my cane on the bar top beside him.
Rack me up a double, Giles old fellow. God knows I'll need it.
A double what old chap?
This time I prodded my cane at his generous stomach.
A double fucking something, that's what.
Giles turned and wheezed out some orders at the barman.
A slender màtre d' with a thin moustache approached, he had a nose like a ogre's penis.
Your guests await sirs.
He gave a sweeping bow and led us to a large table in a sheltered alcove. There were two ladies sitting there. They were rather attractive if that was your kind of thing. Grudgingly I sat down. Giles to my left introduced them.
So ladies, let me introduce the almost legendary Uncle Boom, I am sure he won't mind if you call him Boomy? Boomy, this is Alicia and Maria.
He gestured to each in turn.
Uhum, good evening.
I said as suavely as I could.
Both ladies nodded a good evening back at me. The màtre d' handed out menus and asked if we required a moment to decide on our order.
Four filet mignon, rare and bloody as fuck and two bottles of Chàteau Mouton.
I boomed.
The Maria one made a mewling sound like a puppy in a sack.
I don't actually eat meat. I am a pescatarian.
A pesky fucking what?
I barked.
A pescatarian, the only meat I eat is fish.
Bollocks, you're crying out for a jigget of beef.
Alicia pulled Maria close and started whispering and making hand signals as if trying to land a plane. I felt a tugging on my sleeve. It was Giles.
Come on old chap, tone it down a little. I fancy burying the badgers head tonight??!
I shook him off but grudgingly nodded. I suppose I could let the fish eating go. I slapped the màtre d' on the arse.
Bring a lettuce with the steaks old fellow? For the ladies of course.
The màtre d' sucked in a huge breath, his moustache curling like one of those mood fish from a Christmas cracker.
Sir, I must positively insist that you never strike me in the derriere ever again. Or I will be forced to ask you to leave.
I slowly stood and smiled at the table.
Ladies, Giles. Please do excuse me a moment. I must speak with our friend here.
I turned to the màtre d'.
May we talk in private old fellow? I must make this right.
I pulled my wallet out and thumbed some notes seductively at him. The màtre d' gazed at my wallet like a Weasel with an erection. He nodded toward the back door, eyes never leaving my wallet.
A short time later I returned. I bowed grandly at the table. I was in exceptionally good humour.
Ladies, Giles, please. Let us start this evening afresh. I was a little out of sorts earlier. For that I apologise.
I snapped my fingers at a passing waiter.
My good man, what fine fish do you have for my lovely companion?
I motioned to Maria and gave her my most handsome of smiles. She returned the smile and I sat. It was not long before the conversation and wine were flowing proper.
The evening went very well. I regaled the ladies with my exploits as a trader on the high seas and Giles chimed in with some lesser tales of loading ships with crates and counting beans. Toward the end of the evening the ladies went off to powder their collective noses. Giles leaned in.
Glad you managed to turn it round Boomy.
I do apologise old friend, I needed to... get in the mood.
Yes, well, once you sorted out that greedy bloody màtre d' you were in much better form. Did you have to give the beggar much to assuage his "feelings"? What did it cost you, a hundred? Two? I notice he never came back!
I leaned in close.
I gave him exactly what he was due, old fellow. Exactly. What. He. Was. Due.
Giles laughed.
Oh you are quite the one, old chap. And bloody hell; look at the state of your shirt from that bloody steak! We will have to get you a bib! Go on, how much did he skin from you?
I tugged my coat closed a little and raised my glass with merry cheer.
Ah Giles. Surely you know...
A splendid adventure. And now to the sorry case of the disappearing advisements... The comments below bear no relation to the post they were taken from.
You see because the spamfarmers actually don't care anymore. It's patently obvious that they read the title of a post and reply to that. Then they don't engage further... Aw!
SpamFarmer1: your story is very interesting i like it very much. hopefully the feathers quickly grow back
UncleBoom: So do I, I am meant to fly south soon.
SpamFarmer2: Funny, if i were her i will bring you more surprises from the drawer like gun and told you ok fuck of cryptocurrency, i am get tired. and also i will go home and trade with you.
UncleBoom: By trade do you mean the sexy sexy and would that be at gunpoint too?
Well fuck it, I'm in, be gentle with me!
