Advice to a Distressed Lady in the Bar.

A Tavern Keeper overhears a lot in the bar. People tell their woes; others sip their ale and listen to the ailments. A Lady I know quite well, a 'regular' was seeking solace and one concerned chap gave his view.

A bit of background: I won't be giving names !

Let's call her Brenda, shall we. There are a lot of Brenda's around. Single, 'mature', very likely raised by a mother. She lives in a small place and finds it hard to make ends meet.  She has a cat. Of course. It is pretty old. Both the cat and Brenda are pussy cats.

So, she has not been in for a week and here she is sitting at the bar, a little hunched over, talking to a chap. He is asking how she is. She says:

"I am on the mend and will be going  to work on Monday. I am lucky the job waited for me." 

He asks if the job will be enough

"I have another job offer too. Some more hours and more money but I can't do both. I hate losing money. I wish I could clone me so I could totally exploit the other me."

Apparently she has a little extra money coming in by renting out her spare room to a chap but he is turning out to be more of a problem than the lack of money.

 
"I have been bedridden with the terrible flu all week, too ill to go to the shop for more Tylenol when I ran out. Can you believe even though I would hint, asking my lodger if he was going to the shop could he pick me up a few things to only get the reply ' Yes, if I go.'  and of course he did not.  We are half a block from the shop but he could not go out of his way to go there to pick me up a few bits  all weekend?  Although I keep the place immaculate, he could not wash the dishes or take the garbage out for once, seeing I was too ill? UN-fucking- BELIEVABLE."

"I have never met someone so selfish and ungiving in all my life! This is a guy I have cooked meals for to get him through til his next pay cheque when he had no food. A guy I have lent money to to carry him over. A guy whose dishes I do, whom I never ask to go to the shop for me, take out the garbage wash a dish, clean his own tub. Nothing!"

Then the outburst ! 

He has no life, no friends, when he is not at work he sits in his room getting drunk on cheap beer - and he lied to me that he did not drink except the odd beer if he was out with friends. I had told him I did not want any men I didn't know drinking here. He lied about everything to get the room and is a complete sociopath. He claims he hates people yet with that attitude I am not surprised he has lost faith in people. He is the most despicable person I have ever met.

She quietens down.

Her next seat at the bar companion of the moment sits there looking into his glass, waiting for her heartbeat to resume steady.

 

"You need cheering up." He says.

"First". He said, slowly. "The Man. TELL him what you want him to do. Don’t ask if he can. Men do not like that one bit. Of course he ‘can’.

Second. How to get rid of him. TELL three other men what you want them to do for you – ie throw him out on his arse. Negotiate a deal suitable to you and them. DON’T ask if they ‘can’. Three men will not like it three times as much as one man.  

TELL them you are in need of a Brother. Or three. Perhaps offer yourself to them to be adopted as a sister for three months and will do something astonishingly silly once every week for the three months so they can laugh and point fingers.

Third. Ditch the cat and find a good man. One of the three 'Brothers’ might be suitable or at least give some hints as to who would be and even how to get him.  

Tell the cat 'goodbye and good luck'.  It's got nine lives and you have just the one. The cat never went to the store to get any Tylenol for you either.  

Tell the new man you want to be cherished, and cut a deal suitable to you both. Any man you choose is going to be less selfish and un-giving than the one you say is the most selfish and un-giving man you have ever met. Or the cat. You can only do better.  

You won’t find a man while you have the cat.

Fourth. Go and get some really splendid underwear. It will help you feel good and also help cut the deal with the one Mr Right Enough.  I could recommend some styles. 

Its a pity I do not live close by or I could help you find some and give helpful, candid opinions on the spot. Make sure the bra fits properly. 90% of women do not know their correct size.   

Their cats don’t either."

 Brenda looked up and laughed. The first 'happy' from her all night. Then she looked into her glass.

"First I need the new body to go into the new knickers".

I wandered off to serve another customer, leaving restored good humour.