Probably not the best way to impress the girls

So, there we are. Three women of around the same age, long work day over, sitting around a table on a footpath outside a bar (I believe it is called “cafe style”). A couple of empty wine glasses on the table. The three of us in full vent mode, on the tail end of a nasty month at work, gathering strength for an equally nasty month to come. Venting so hard, in fact, we are largely oblivious to everything else. Lost in a world of character assassinations and grand declarations of managerial incompetence.

We become aware of a gentleman standing at the end of the table. No one notices him come up – suddenly, he is just there. He is smiling at us. His collar is up. His bling is shiny. He gives the impression of having been standing there for some time, waiting for us to notice him.

“How are you ladies doing tonight?”

Pause. We are so intent on our conversation the sudden return to the outside world startles us.

“Ah, not bad, and you?” one of us ventures.

Pause. Longer pause. We are frozen in a silent, polite tableau, looking at him.

“Ah, can I…get you a round of drinks?”

I am briefly confused. This bar has table service, but he doesn’t have a uniform on like the other staff.

The penny drops. Oh, he wants to buy us a drink.

“No, I think we’re right, thanks anyway.”

He is at a loss. Awkward pause.

He valiantly recovers.

“Ah, can I…clear your glasses for you?”

Confusion again. Right, he must be staff.

“Sure, thanks, that’d be great.”

He picks up our empty glasses. He takes them to the bar and then walks off down the street.

The barman, watching from behind the bar, looks mystified.

I know how he feels.

Edited once sobriety returned.