The Bag of Douche

Two nights ago I went to a bar, and I´ll be honest it´s a bit of a gringo hang out, but it´s nice cos even though a few of the pseudos find it, the owners are nice and the homebrew is tasty. So I went there to meet Steve – (´The Zen Surfer ´) and when I arrive he´s stood next to this guy, who´s wearing a mixture of Northface camping jacket and trousers, combined with ethnic scarf, bracelets and hat and topped off by wrap around dark glasses. As I approach the bar I see the guy relax back in his chair and announce to the lovely barmaid: “Well you know Betty everyday is a gift, that´s why they call it the present”. I double take, the jaw drops and I feel a howl pushing it´s way up from the bottom of my gut. I look to Betty who has disappeared behind the bar, apparently looking for something…I´m think I can hear sniggering , but maybe she´s just overwhelmed by the profound nature of his observation. I turn to Steve, who´s eyes have already glazed over…I hear the silence fill my head, a void opens up before us and we are then forced to listen to it announce many more philosophical gems until he happens upon two very stoned Swedes who have the requisite amount of English with which to ignore him. Thank god for the Swedes, Steve and I retreat to another corner of the bar and watch him for the remainder of the night.

The following day I tell Neil and Kim of my encounter, I see doubt on their faces, surely no one could be that much of an arse and yet by lunchtime they returned with the same gob smacked look that I had worn the previous day. Their quiet lunchtime drink had gone from bad to worse for them, starting with his opening gambit: “I´m good friends with Tom Selleck”, right up to the final barrage of his conversational arsenal - Israeli foreign policy is right on the money….

A legend was born and he shall be known as The Bag of Douche.