Henry the barman

by Bennie

Posted to Stories on 2002-08-22 09:54:00

Friday night and Henry is behind the bar, his bar as it has come to be known, pulling pints, mixing drinks, winking laughing and being all a good barman is. The TV was on, a bunch of jocks in the corner where watching the World Giraffe riding championships. This year it was being held on a frozen pond in Clackmananshire. Tony, the captain of the team of braindead sports stars said, ‘Hey if I was racing a giraffe I’d get one of those stripy ones with a normal neck.’
His friend, Chester Marceano pointed out that, ‘all giraffes looked the same’
Tony was shocked stunned and slightly constipated. He ran round in circles knocking shit over and tripping up over the ladieeeeeeees hand bags.
Henry glided over. ‘What are you doing sonny, this bar isn’t for doing that you know, know sit down and stop acting like a chimney.’ Henry really had a way with words.
One time he told a girlfriend he was dumping that the reason was, ‘your eyebrows are too perfect and mine keep biting me every time I get near you’

The jocks, beaten, left teh bar and through dead fish at Henry as they ran out shouting, ‘hahaha at least we don’t wash our hair with daffodils’
Henry looked around him and realised something rather profound:

Bars are in no way similar to mushrooms or parked cars with bits of plastic stuck to the roof. At closing time Henry shut up shop and went to his house where he had some toothpaste and dog.