Featured image by Bruno /Germany from Pixabay
How can a shrew like Henry rise above a crowd? I told you Henry dresses the way he does because he doesn’t want to stand out in the kitchen. Henry is a Twenty-of-Two Grand Master. Before you can even begin that training, you must graduate with honors from one of two different premier culinary schools. At some point those schools are going to start wondering why their top students simply drop from the face of the earth after graduation, but that is a problem for another time.
As a general rule, women who tip the scales enough to get Henry’s attention like to cook and love to eat. Admittedly, I’ve never seen him chase one that tipped the scales quite this far before. I can only assume Henry views this like some men view a trophy bass.
The second general rule is that these women (if straight) are delighted when a guy in a bar has an ordinary conversation with them. OK, I’m told talking about recipes is ordinary for some people. Until I joined this organization I never knew that. I’m not saying I’m better off knowing it, just that I didn’t know it, and I’m still not certain I believe it. Imagine how overjoyed these women are when they discover a master chef has been chatting them up. Once they figure that out, they are locked onto him.
I’ve always been told happiness is nothing more than having something to look forward to. Set your bar low enough and you will always be happy. I’ve also encountered guys who live by the motto “Go ugly early and get a good night’s sleep.” Neither philosophy holds a lot of appeal for me. I’m old enough now I can’t even do the “drink ’em pretty” thing anymore.
Statistically, women which meet Henry’s criteria don’t have jealous husbands. The other two I witnessed weren’t even married. We are definitely dealing with some outlier data tonight.
Obviously these two have went at it before in this place. The bartenders are still serving drinks and watching sports on TV. The three women who just came up behind the men have to be her sisters. The family resemblance is quite sizable. They also have wedding rings on their hands. Just ducky. It’s a “family outing” and Henry just moused his way into the dysfunctional side of the family, not that I believe that family has a functional side, I simply try not to judge.
Henry is sitting there grinning like a pig in shit. He hasn’t looked this way once. Nobody has noticed my interest in the situation since they all have that same interest. It’s like those really bad daytime TV shows, only it is happening live. Everybody says they hate those shows, yet when the DVDs go on sale it’s an easy $120 million for the person who put them out. Not exactly the kind of number which screams hate.
When it comes to attention spans, for most people the bell curve centers around three minutes. Web site designers and ad executives claim success of biblical proportions if they can hold a viewer’s attention for five minutes. I have noticed a lot of people talk while a television show is on, then pay attention to the commercials. I guess the commercials manage to fit inside their attention span. Others tell me there is a special level of Hell reserved exclusively for child molesters and people who talk at the theater. In my line of work your head is filled with useless information which becomes infinitely valuable. I tell this to you now because two of the three women that came up lost interest in the argument and picked up the napkins. They didn’t just pick them up, they started reading through them. Some went back on the bar, but others were getting stuffed into their purses and bras. The object of Henry’s desire just caught onto this and turned her venom towards her sisters.
Oddly enough, the husbands are now stepping back as their wives get into the act. For the moment, they have all forgotten about Henry, but, I’ll wager it is only for the moment.
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