Tuesday, 17 June 2008
The date was a shocker, the Banks Charm just couldn’t find a foothold. First off Angie was not what I’d expected by which I mean I hadn’t expected her to be so freakishly unattractive. My Barista, Dan Tang, had told me that she was as “pretty as a picture” but he didn’t tell me that the picture was a Picasso. My first instinct was to throw myself into the hedge before she saw me but I decided to do the right thing and go through with the date hoping that her personality would compensate for her offensive features. It didn’t. Angie’s main problem, apart from her stench which I can only describe as 'Eau de Commode', is her obsession with Hollywood ‘has been’ Richard Gere and after five minutes of listening to her harping on about the actor I decided to try and get in on the conversation by asking her if she wasn’t put off of Gere by the fact that he’s had a hamster up his bum (allegedly). All hell broke loose in the Harvester (Pub & Grill). Without warning Angie’s picked up my Liebfraumilch and huzzed it at my head, missing me and covering the old timer on the next table who happened to be in an electric wheelchair. The booze managed to short circuit the motor sending the chair and the pensioner in it bombing into the rotisserie stand. His wife starts screaming: “He’s a vegan, he’s a vegan” and we both rush over and attempt to excavate him from a landslide of hot (tasty) chicken. All that steam was making my cold sore itch like bonkers so I’m giving it a good scratch with my tongue. Next thing I know some joker’s throwing punches at me convinced I’m giving the old boy the ‘Deacon’. His wife had just managed to get his head above the chickens when the ‘have a go’ hero’s sparked him out cold with a misplaced upper cut. Needless to say, I picked up a lifetime ban from Harvester, which was a shame as I’d never been to a Harvester before. I shared a cab home with Angie who only spoke to tell me that she wouldn’t care if Richard Gere had Gordon the Gopher and Pip Scholfield hanging out of his arse, she’d still "get off with him." If only I’d known that from the start. What a night.
Posted by by Steve Banks & Chris Harris at 14:43