It was cold and dark. The pub looked warm and less dark. These two simple facts made for an easy decision I swung open the door to the Buxom Wench and without a second thought marched on in.
As far as pubs go the Buxom Wench was at the lower end of the class / cleanliness scale. Bare wooden floorboards, well worn red, probably used to be velvet, chairs. And a long dark wooden bar shiny from use and spilt beer rather than care and attention. Behind the bar stood, perhaps unsurprisingly, a barman. Barely able to peer over the bar his balding head bobbed along behind the bar as he preformed, what I imagined, were his barman duties.
I walked toward the bar; it seemed the best place to start. Still looking around, trying to get a feel for the old place I noticed two old men deep in conversation, a few singles sitting at various tables minding their own. And, sitting alone, all by herself, with no one for company and looking right at me and smiling, a beautiful, radiant young woman. She could not have looked more out of place if she had been naked and smoking a small fried rodent. I smiled back, well it’s only polite. Having reached the bar I decided to order a drink, to steady my nerve, before trying my luck.
“Bitter, please” I said, to the barman. He looked up at me, raised one quizzical eyebrow, shrugged then disappeared behind the bar. I tapped my fingers on the bar and waited, impatiently. After a short while the bartender reappeared, holding in his podgy hand a pint glass filled to the brim with a green liquid. Though it did have a good head on it, it was clearly not what I had ordered.
“Two quid” said the bartender expectantly.
“Bitter!” Said I. The bartender shrugged. “BIIIITTTTER?” I almost shouted it this time; the bartender however was not impressed he merely shrugged, again, and held out his grubby paw. Reluctantly I gave him a two pound coin, which vanished into his apron immediately, and collected my pint of green? Looking round I decided, uncharacteristically, to try my luck with the redhead in the corner. As I approached her she smiled and pointed to the seat opposite her own.
“I’m Sallagan Brodie, pleased to meet you ..?”
“McLeod. Er, Dante McLeod” So much for smooth. Sallagan smiled at me as I sat down and our eyes met for the briefest of moments then she raised her glass, like mine it was also full of something green, and took a large gulp. A bright shower of sparks cascaded from Sallagan’s left ear. I was, to say the least, a little surprised. Surprised enough to raise one eyebrow in a quizzical manor and point at her ear. Sallagan smiled and said:
“Drink up it’sh good tonisht..” She seemed to be slurring her words a little “Drinkshup! Hic!”
Things were getting a little strange. Sallagan watched me over the top of her glass as she downed the rest of her pint of green. Looking disappointedly into the empty glass she must have noticed the bartender lurking nearby as she raised her glass in his direction and wiggled it around in the air a bit. The bartender nodded in acknowledgement and promptly disappeared behind the bar, reappearing some minutes later carrying, a tray with two glasses of green and wearing a big smile. He brought the drinks and his smile to our table handed one glass to Sallagan while placing the other on the table next to my first, still untouched, drink.
“Hic-up!” said Sallagan to the barman by way of thanks.
The barman – ‘my name is Collin’ it says on his badge… - Collin, farts, looks apologetically in my direction then leaves.
Sallagan laughed and downed her fresh pint of green in one. A little rivulet of green ran down her chin when she had finished, I pointed this out, politely. Sallagan caught the droplet of green, as it hung from her chin, on the end of her index finger then pressed her finger to my lips. It was bitter though not entirely unpleasant.
“Drink” encouraged the redhead. So I did; both pints in rapid succession. Sallagan smiled and rolled her eyes upwards until only the whites were showing then slowly her pupils re-emerged one at a time from her lower eyelid as though her eyes had rotated through a full 360 degrees, neat trick I thought. Then her skin turned blue! Bright blue! I tried to push my chair back so I could stand up and run away, like a frightened school girl, but I could not. So I sat and watched a Sallagan, blue skin, red hair, began to speak in a very deep and masterful voice about the mechanical problems that would have to be overcome if we ever hoped to be able to “build a dyson sphere from the solar planets”.
Next thing I knew Sallagan is leaning over the table looking into my eyes (well with her left eye, the right one was still slowly spinning) and puckering up for a kiss. I should have screamed. I should have run. I should have crawled under the table and hid like a naughty kid in a restaurant. What I did was pucker up and leans forward. She head butted me. Then my good friend oblivion came and took me on a long trip to never land.