That is the beginning of good jokes, right? And yes it is going to be funny (i hope), because this post is about me and i do not find myself handsome.
Although i get that a lot. That i am handosme, not that i am funny.
Last night was … bizarre.
I started cooking bigos (hunter’s stew). I do not know why. I had a craving. My body wanted sauerkraut.
Cooking is my passion, relax and my time with myself. Everyone who has made that dish at least once, knows that it takes lots of time. The more you cook it, the tastier it gets. So, i was chained to my stove and oven for ages. Mixing, stirring, adding stuff.
After 4 hours of cooking i said „enough”. Turned off the burner and went for a night walk. Sauerkraut has a peculiar … aroma. Hence the stroll was refreshing. I was passing a local bar. It was not full so i decided to enter for a beer or two.
So, a handsome man walks into the local bar…
i sit at the bar. There is only me and a new bartender, Lola. She is from the Ukraine. I sip one pint of beer enjoying a logic game on my phone.
People start to gather. Two young women join me at the bar talking fiercely about work situation. „Jesus, it is Friday” i whisper in my mind. I could not help but peek at the one of the ladies.
Next to me a guy sits down. I know he comes here a lot but we have never shaken our hands or talked. This time he greets me by the firm shake of the hand. We start talking. Tattoos are among our topics. It appears that Lola has few in some interesting places. We talk, laugh and drink beers. Well, Lola does not drink. The owner has put a white camera recently so the bartenders do not drink with clients anymore. Red diodes are blinking. Hm, is the owner looking?
After 3 pints i say it is time for me. When i zip my jacket a stranger from the corner aproaches me. She says something faintly. „Beg your pardon” i say. She mumbles. Again, nothing i could understand.
– Excuse me, but i cannot hear what you have just said
– i would like to buy a drink – she said
I look at her. She looks like 50. Or maybe the lighting in the bar is shitty and she is younger. The age is not the matter here. I am gonna be 50 „any day soon”. Time flies when you turn 30. I thank her gently saying:
– honey, thank you very much but i really gotta go. The kids are crying at home
On my way back home i think about what has just happened. It takes a lot of courage to buy a strange man a drink. As far as i am concerned, i do not believe i would ever do it! No. I know. I WOULD NEVER DO IT. I can buy a drink to a man i know. But to a strange guy? No. However i would never have a problem to buy a drink to strange, i find somehow attractive, woman. And as a matter of fact i have done that few times already.
Hats off to my gal. She must have kept an eye on me for some time in that bar. The whole let- me-buy-you-a-drink sittuation is … weird, surreal, bizarre. I do not know how to call it. Could not she do that before? When i was finishing my first or second pint? Could not she join us at the bar and start talking to me or us? To become not strangers? I wonder how she feels after being rejected? Well, if i only was not taken aback, if she did join us at the bar, i would be really flattered by her kind proposal. But no one can turn back time.
I gotta go to that bar more often!
Some women say – you should shave. You look 10 years older.
Some women say – wow. You look good with your beard and short hair.
Well, it is true – it is hard to satisfy everybody.
Can you find differences?