This week our pub was taken over by two manager landladies.
I only know this because three separate people have told me, when I have been out with the dogs throughout the week.
One told me that Chris and I were no longer " The only gays in the village"
So I am presuming that a lesbian couple has taken charge.
But of course, it's always dangerous to presume anything.
Not until you get the info from the horses mouth
When the third person, commented with a knowing look that two ladies were in charge of the pub, I decided to have a little fun
The conversation went roughly as follows
Villager 1: " There are two women managing at The Crown" said with a theatrically wide eyed smile
Me: " Great stuff.....a lot of people commented that the previous manager was a bit stand offish"
Villager 1: " Have you met the " girls" yet?"
Me: " no what are they like?"
Villager 1: " Well...they ARE very friendly and nice enough.........you'll have something in common of course !" ( another knowing look)
Me: " why? .........Do they keep chickens?"
Villager 1 ( thrown for a moment) " errr no, I don't think so"
Me" oh that's a shame"
I left it at that
Speaking of lesbians and pubs, when I was single and living in Sheffield , I would occasionally go to " The Cossack " one of the few gay bars in the city.
It was a dive of a place, situated between the University buildings and the railway station, and I remember one Thursday night many many years ago now , when a massive fist fight erupted in the centre of a large contingent of very butch women.
Apparently the argument started when two bulldog dykes fell out over a particularly sweet looking lipstick lesbian!
There is nothing more dangerous than a butch lesbian scorned
Bar stools and several pint glasses flew, the swearing was worse than anything that could have been heard on the terraces of Hillsborogh football club as lesbians from across South Yorkshire seemed to join in with the bar room brawl, and I remember killing myself laughing,when quite suddenly, a very camp and frail elderly man clutching a rather battered cocktail staggered out amongst the denim dungarees gasping for breath with a hand around his throat
" the horror! .......oh......The horror!" he cried
God love an old queen!