Nothing Changes

Hi, Milt here. The guy in the bar last Tuesday.

Tuesday was an average day, no major calamity until I went to celebrate in the local bar. What a mistake!

The usual scene in there, half a dozen seedy looking guys dropping his cigarette butts on the floor under the "No Smoking at the Bar" signs and the pain in the ass barman who hasn't mastered how to serve people doing his best to ignore everybody. After thirty seconds in the place you wonder what on Earth you're doing there. An hour later you're still wondering.

Suddenly you realize that your back is much warmer than usual. Is it the beer? No the heat is caused by bodily contact. Hey life is suddenly looking up, not only is there a female in the bar for a change but she's making serious physical contact.

Yes Milt's life is definitely on the up. She's blonde, warm, available and pressing herself against your back, her chin against your shoulder. She speaks and what passes as conversation starts off something like this....

"I'm a f***ing nursh. I am I'm a trained nursh. I'm in A&E but no one'll look after me." The local bag lady, the local lush, the local nutcase! Lady you can not be serious! This is Milt Bogs you're passing out on, a man with pride, a man with taste, even after a night in the local bar.

Eventually she staggered to the powder room and then somehow vanished off the face of the Earth.

Lady, if you're reading this you don't owe me a drink to replace the one you helped yourself to. The guy behind the bar gave me a fresh one.