My good friend and barwench Elaine (who, incidentally, last night saw me approaching the bar and had a tequila ready for me when I got there. Legend, that girl) has sent me a message and all is solved:
hey lucy just checkin ur ok after that stool fell over ya the other nite!! ya drunken hooligan!
My Saturday night mishap was only a drunken stool fall! That's just dandy, I can manage stool falls. Stool falls are run of the mill in Lucytown. Lesbianism on the other hand...
I understand that in my last post I may have implied a flippant and disrespectful attitude towards lesbians. This is so not what I stand for. I'm all about the love. I love the gays! Just not physically. In related matters, an alternate title I considered for this post was "'Salright! Not a dyke!".
Oh, and Caroline, if you're reading this, disregard everything I've written. I'm always a lesbian for you, baby.
4 comments:
How often DO people keel over and fall off bar stools, Lucy? Where I come from in Glasgow (far better city than the other place in Scotland you were in last year), there's a preponderence of well-gutted old folk who manage to stay on their stools for hours without keeling over.
Stool falling is not an art that many people can pull of gracefully. I've noticed that girls tend to be less graceful that boys infact.
I'm sure you're great at it though. What a compliment.
Latest updates suggest that the stool fell over ME. Stupid stool. I would never 'keel over' and fall from a stool anyway: Any falls I have suffered have been gravity's fault.
SO THERE. Haterz.
Perhaps the stool had lesbian tendancies?
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