The barman’s fat, hairy arse crack opened itself up nicely, poking free from the top of the belted, faded denim.
Bent over, big blue catering roll in hand, the freshly spilled Guinness was mopped up professionally and painlessly by the workman-like barman.
Double apologies ensued between the regular, once brimming cup holder and slightly embarrassed, less regular and younger glass nudger.
A microclimatic dramedy of conflict, revealing sexual body parts, reconciliation and resolution. Early January post Xmas perils are unavoidable but rarely navigated so beautifully.
Making up and moving on… with all of us having a little less black stuff in our vessel and the floor a little more stained than it was before.