Really, where does a fat, dumb, sluggish, dumpy, unaccomplished barmaid get off telling me I’m “too short”. Too short for what? It’s incredible the bullshit I have to go thru for a lousy piece of tail. Mind you, she did follow me out at closing time & “coincidentally” was getting into her car same time as me. But by then, lady [following clause deleted].
[Author’s note 2015-06-26: Ha, note now back then I was far quicker to talk about screwing around. I’m surprised, however, that I was so explicity about that barmaid. I don’t remember Jo-Anne, but she claimed to be a “lingerie model” in private homes.
Hence “Fuckerware”. There was no chance in 1981 that more than a few people would ever know I wrote that. I’ve always had an aversion to women who regard sex as a job. I can vaguely remember the “Rose & Crown”, since it was the closest pub to my place of business. It is still in business today, but only because it was owned by the people who owned the entire shopping mall.
The comment by the barmaid was indirect, in that she noticed I had no problem hitting on tall women. I don’t do barmaids, so she said that out of spite. I found out later she liked me, but I did not at all like her. Mind you, the other barmaid was something else. That one, I would die for. She looked like a model and quickly disappeared from that job.
And one of my least favorite photos, that massive waste of money called the Space Shuttle. I should point out I did not originally hate the Shuttle--because I thought its purpose was to ferry parts of a space station to be used for the launch to Mars. I thought the idea was to send up dozens of loads of fuel, more than could be launched from Earth, thence to use that fuel to head on to Mars. I had no idea it was just a ploy by NASA employees to secure their jobs.]
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