Sunday, April 06, 2008

Last week, I walked into this tavern....

and it was packed. There wasn't a seat at the bar. Most of the tables were taken, but there were a few seats at the back bar. The back bar is basically a wall between the bar area, and the tables, but they put a counter down the length of it, along with stools. It's like the second stringer bar. I picked one with a good view of the pretty barmaids, I mean good view of the HD widescreen TV with nothing but sports on it. Stacy got my regular Bud draft, and I leaned back against the counter and waited for a first string seat to open up.

Then I saw something fall. It belonged to the woman sitting in front of me, at the bar. I got up to grab it, to hand it to her, but then my hand froze. I saw what it was, and quickly glanced around. No one saw me! Thank goodness. I sat back for a minute, thinking she'd realize that she dropped something. She didn't. My inner Knight finally won over my inner Coward, and I walked behind her, leaned forward, and whispered, "Excuse me, I think you dropped something." Then I sat back down.

She glanced around, but didn't see anything. She spun around in her chair, and told her friend that she dropped something. Neither of them could see it, as it was under her stool, on the floor. She then told her husband, and her friend's husband, and they all started looking, and since NONE of them found it, I finally got up, bent down, and picked up the tampon and handed it to her.

She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. Then she said that it wasn't hers. She said it was her husband's. He laughed. She started laughing. Then they all were laughing, myself included. Stacy looked up from washing glasses, but had no clue what was going on, so she shook her head and walked away. The woman thanked me. She said I was sweet, and very polite. I told her that I was trying to be discreet, but that all went to hell when she told everyone to help her find whatever it was that she dropped. We laughed some more, and she introduced herself as Linda.

Last night, I walked into the same tavern....and Linda and her husband are sitting there. I sat a few seats down, ordered the prime rib dinner, with a cold beer, and started watching the NCAA semi-final basketball games. She didn't see me, and I didn't make any move to get her attention, but eventually, after the people between us left, she noticed me. She came over and said "Hi, you're my Tampon Man.", and laughed. I cringed. She confided to me that if she were in her 20's she would have been horrified by that event. I told her that I thought about ignoring it, but then thought, "What if she needs it?" She said that even in her 30's she would have blushed beet red with embarrasment. I reiterated my plan of discretion, and how like those well known best laid plans, it went astray. She went on telling me that since she's in her 40's it was no longer a big deal, and she held it up in the air. I imagined Linda brandishing that little white tube as if it were Excalibur! I told her, "See, it means you're still young!" Then I asked her to do me a big favor.

I said, "Please, PLEASE, don't ever call me your 'Tampon Man' again."

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