Men Only

BimboBob said:
Simpler times. A small sanctuary, away from the daily grind. A place to talk. A place without the constant distraction of the twittering female. A place without the flash of a cleavage, a well turned ankle or even the 'is she or isn't she' knicker discussion of the young girl in the corner with her mates in the short skirt who keeps looking at me, I swear she's looking at me, fuck off mate I saw her first and besides she's well out of your league, she can tell you have a girlfriend, they know that sort of stuff, she looks the sort that won't mind a married man, naaa not for me, don't like her eyebrows...

Why was this a thing? What happened when the young barmaid had a night off? Did you get Big Dave or his massive missus?
Click to expand...
Reading that thought you were going to go full Counting Crows ;-)
 
Remember the pubs we had growing up. Going into the vault before school and before the cleaners arrived was always good for a few quid down the back of the chairs.
The stench of tobacco was fucking awful, mind.
 
I drank in a great bar that didn’t have a woman’s loo until the late 90’s. It was full of good cunts. Different ages, great patter. Swearing, shouting playing cards, filthy stories.

In the flush of a pink toilet, it was over. Well most of it, apart from the swearing.

It went right downhill. As did I, at its demise. It was a haven. We loved going there.

Plus the barmaid had brilliant tits.
 
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