Busty Barmaids
Because of the amount of work we are doing to make these things happen we are not getting time to draw breath and have to force ourselves away from the PCs into the outside world from time to time. This means we have developed a very bad habit.
Once upon a time we would visit our local pub perhaps once a moth for a pub meal and to absorb the characterful atmosphere. I say that without irony and it brings a smile to my lips because the staff and patrons are the epitome of a good country pub. Friendly, with broad local accents, good food, damn good beer and guaranteed to raise the spirits.
They know what we like to drink, know what we always (boringly) order to eat from their excellent menu and even know our favourite place to sit. It’s a bad habit because we seem to go once a week now. However it’s a break from the silly workload we’ve imposed on ourselves so on the other hand a very sensible way of avoiding us going completely stir crazy.
So sitting looking out of the Georgian bay window of the pub I was relaxed and happy. We discussed the sites and the adult biz in a sort of code of nicknames and initials that we have to adopt in public places to avoid strange looks. Then out of the corner of my eye I spotted one of the locals sat on a bar stool getting his pint, and a little bit extra.
The guy, about 70 years old, was totally transfixed by the barmaid. She’s a very friendly girl in her early twenties. Today she was wearing a rather revealing dress that displayed her ample bosom in a way that could not fail to catch the eye. It caught his, especially as she was leaning forward towards him across the bar resting her boobs on her folded arms. His age and the generally relaxed mood in the pub meant it hadn’t occurred to her that the poor guy was presented with her immense chest and was struggling to keeps his eyes off it.
It was in its way a charming site. There was nothing sexual in her stance, she was totally lacking in self-awareness, simply chatting to a customer and doing her job. If he had been 40 or 50 years younger she would have been more guarded and avoided presenting herself to him in such a way.
So I nodded to Suze and indicated she looked across at the tableaux at the bar. She smiled.
We do love our local pub.