‘Maybe you shouldn’t let Pint drink so much beer.”
The woman speaking was my muse Sherry. I scowled at the dog laying on the floor. Pint is a small beagle (he was the runt of the litter and never really grew much) and he likes a beer a day with lots of foam. Right now he was sleeping on his back with bent legs in the air. He was snoring contentedly. No one in the pub noticed it too much as this is a normal occurrence but the smile on his dog face was larger than usual.
“He only get’s one a day.”
“It’s too much if you ask me, look at the chaos he caused today.”
Pint had been more busy than usual but I didn’t think it was the beer; it was the new barmaid Tequila. It had been her first day and Pint did his standard thing when he got his bowl of beer. He made sure the foam was on his lips and then ran up to her and growled. You know the standard ‘she is going to think I’m rabid and scream’ joke he plays with everyone. Only Tequila didn’t scream. She walked right over and used her towel to wipe off his mouth and then kissed him on the forehead. Pint looked stunned for a second and then his tail began wagging so fast I thought he was going to fly around the room. After that, he went back to his place at the end of the bar but unlike most days he didn’t sleep the rest of the day away, he followed Tequila with his eyes around the room. Every time she got close to him he would perk up and start wagging his tail. Every time she would stop and scratch his ears and tell him how cute he was. Pint of course ate it up, he usually does not get that much attention.
“It’s not the beer, Pint’s in love with Tequila.”
“Can’t say that I blame him.”
“Hrump, Men. The species doesn’t seem to matter, you are all the same.”
Sherry stormed off at that point. It had been a busy day.
I hired a barmaid because frankly I wanted to do more talking with the various people of the pub. I am the boss after all. Tequila was the only applicant who showed up for the interview. She was dressed and ready to start immediately. Red skirt to the floor, white and black top that showed at least four inches of cleavage and a red cap. She was obviously of Spanish decent with dark hair and dark eyes. Her figure was stunning. Her credentials impeccable. I hired her immediately. As a barmaid, even with only one day of observation, she is one of the best remembers everything, hustles and never stops smiling. She earned a lot of tips today.
The problems started with Pint and mostly involved the regulars:
1) Mr Vodka was shoving his cigar in my face and yelling about how I needed to rework my post about the future pope. Tequila was nearby pouring some beers for a couple of guys in a nearby booth. Pint was perked up. At that moment Vodka set his cigar down on the edge of the bar so he could grasp the paper on the pope with both hands to show me more closely what was wrong with it. I didn’t really see how, but Pint took the cigar in his teeth and took off. Mr Vodka shouted and Tequila giggled. Three seconds later Pint had dumped the cigar in the bar sink water and returned to his bed at the end of the bar. Mr Vodka was about to shout down a tirade that would have pealed the paint off the wall, but I pointed to the NO SMOKING sign. Mr. Vodka’s face was so red, I thought it might explode. Suddenly with closed fists he stormed out of the pub. Pint fell asleep right after Tequila rubbed his ears and called him a ‘good dog’.
2) The table I felt was going to give Tequila the most trouble was the one where Colonel Gin and Captain Rum play chess. Chess is always a serious deal as far as anything gets serious around here anyway. Scotch and Professor Bourbon as usually were looking on. (Scotch gave up chess for Lent and no one likes to play Professor Bourbon because he takes a half hour to make each move). The one thing all for these guys have in common is that they are a little lecherous. Tequila is definitely one of those women that can generate pats on the behind and whistles. I don’t need that kind of thing around here, but as Sherry so ably observed ‘men are what they are and so are women’. For the most part I like the arrangement.
When Tequila went over to the table with a tray of drinks, I was naturally apprehensive and so was Pint who woke up and observed the scene. Tequila set down the drinks ordered by the Colonel and Scotch and then turned to give the drinks to the Captain and the Professor. A conversation ensued between her and the professor that kept her backside toward Scotch and the Colonel. Colonel Gin raised his monocle to his eye to get a better view of Tequila and over his shoulder Scotch gave that look of admiration only men can give to a woman’s backside. Apparently chess is the ONLY thing that Scotch gave up for Lent. Colonel Gin then grunted to get Tequila’s attention so she would stand closer. As the conversation on the quality of the liquor ensued, the Colonel’s arm slowly reached around Tequila south of her belt line.
It was at this point that all eyes suddenly fell on a growling Pint.
“Now Pint Ole Boy”, came the Colonel’s voice,”I have been around too long to fall for…” and his voice trailed off as he got a good look at Pint.
Pint’s hair was standing up and there was no foam around his mouth from a beer. His tail was straight and tall. I had only seem him like that a few times and it always involved a female. Last time he took on a Grey Dane over some French Poodle. The Dane backed off and an hour later Pint was a happy Beagle. Although the owners of the French Poodle called me a month later and asked me if I wanted puppies. That was a mess.
The Colonel gulped and lower his hand back to his side.
“Sorry Miss” was all he said and went back to his drink.
In any case, the message was sent by a runt beagle that Tequila could be admired but not touched.
He got another ear scratching and ‘good boy’ from Tequila and I smoothed things over with the Colonel.
3) On the opposite side of the pub from the chess board is the ladies corner. It becomes particularly active after night falls. This particular day, Sherry and Brandy, my muse and my personal trainer voices respectfully, were having a conversation and that was OK. The Miss Wine entered, sensuality crossed the room and sat down with them. Like all female conversations, it didn’t miss a beat but my attitude toward it changed. Two females talking is safe enough, but once there are three or more I keep my distance and fear for the safety of men everywhere. Tequila went over to get Miss Wine’s order.
There is something that happens when two sensual, beautiful women occupy the same room that has a combustible quality that can be akin to a thermonuclear explosion. Claws come out and a pursuit of dominance ensues. Miss Wine had the advantage being a costumer and Tequila apparently had to bite her tongue to keep from saying what she really wanted to in return. I love both these women and it was hard for me to watch. I became so mesmerized with the conflict that I failed to notice Pint was not only awake but moving slowly and quietly toward the ladies’ table. Tequila went to get Miss Wine’s order and she looked like she was choking back a tear or two.
It is at this moment I finally saw Pint. Miss Wine had placed her purse on the floor next to her and it became the target of Pint’s actions. A lifted leg and a stream of urine later and Miss Wine’s purse was soaked. I was the only one who noticed, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before the smell would reach their nostrils as Pint’s urine smells like strong pungent beer. A couple of minutes later my fears were confirmed and the ladies exclaimed not only in disgust but anger. Miss Wine was mortified and then angry with Pint. I took her aside, apologized and promised her free drinks for a month. I also explained the relationship between Pint and Tequila that had formed that day. Oddly enough, Miss Wine seemed to understand at that point and agreed to be nicer to Tequila much to my relief. With Pint in love with Tequila, I knew she was here to stay and that only after one day. Sometimes things just happen and that is going to be the way it is. At closing, Tequila gave Pint one more ‘good boy’ and scratch behind the ears.
Looking at Pint on the floor with his legs in the air, I can now see the moral of the story. Love for a woman can make a male do wonderful and terrible things. Even if that love crosses boundaries of species. Pint is happier than I have ever seen him, hopefully it doesn’t lead to any more incidents. God help us if it does.
Thank for stopping by The Theology Pub – All Things Rabyd. Hope to see you back soon.