The lunch trade on Long Street has been pretty slow today, which is good because I have been pretty hung over. Anyway I had an encounter with a Russian lady that was kinda odd. This is what happened:
I had just sat down to read a blog post or two whilst eating a hangover busting burger when a tall, very attractive woman in a tight pencil skirt, black stockings, stilettos and a tight fitting white blouse stormed into the restaurant eyes darting, looking for someone in charge. I put my burger down, still intact, stood up and asked if I could help.
“Bar!” She almost shouted.
“Bar! You have bar? Is bar open?” She asked, a touch desperately I thought.
“Of course,” I said showing her the way, “what can I get you?”
She wrung her hands and said that she wanted something strong. I said tequila – not being one of those people who think all Irish drink Guinness and all Russians drink Vodka. Her reply was instant and sharp:
“You have Stroh Rum?”
Seriously? I poured a tot and gave it her. She picked it up, smelled it, and then poured it down her throat. She closed her eyes tight, grimaced, then opening them asked how much it was and whether I had a sweet.
After she paid she smoothed out her skirt resolutely, popped the sweet in her mouth, said thank-you and clicked her way out the restaurant. I guess now a little more prepared to face whatever it was she had to face.