Our news reporter, Annie, from the local Church Guild Knitting (read Gossip) Group, conducted interviews down at the ferry terminal to determine the success of the new automatic barmaid that has just been installed down at the hotel.
Annie approached a burly Glaswegian, known as Tam the Dram. “Excuse me, Tam, could you tell me what you think of the new barmaid down at the hotel?”
“’Please remove the item from your basket and scan again.’ Thon new automatic barmaid says the same bloody thing, over and over. ’Listen, Darling,’ I telt her ‘I cannae dae that coz ma glass is empty noo, an a I wannanutherun NOW nae taemorrasmorra.’”
“And did she listen to you, Tam?” asked Annie.
“Naw, so I tried to leave the hotel in disgust. But, as I went through the door thon alarm gaes aff. Bloody Nee Naw Nee Naw and aw that.”
“Why did the alarm sound, Tam?”
“Cause I’d drunk ma dram before I pit ma glass in the bagging area,” said Tam, adding, “We’re aw fed up o drinking at the hotel now. ‘Return item to the bagging area’ she says till she duz ma heid in.”
“Have you any other comments to make about the automatic barmaid, Tam?”
“Aye, bring back thon wee wumun wi the big tits and get rid o thon machine. Ye cannae scan a pint o heavy withoot yon machine calling for a customer service advisor.”
“Why is that, Tam?”
“Cause its too heavy! Apparently, Health and Safety regulations now says ye need safety goggles and yer Moving and Handling ticket to pick it up.”
So what’s the way forward, Tam?”
“Ach, I’m aff tae visit Torquil for a wee dram o his homemade Clapdarnach wine.”
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3 comments:
"Pay at the Pump" it said. "Pay at Kiosk"..whatsa feckin Kiosk onywuy Torquil?
Ah havnae been back tae the hotel since - even the boy who plays down there has gone automatic noo -he just sets the drum machine at 145beats/1 dram per minute & hopes a' the Hillmans'll tap their feet a' night singin Mustang Silly - terrible it is.
Automatic barmaid ma'arse....its an ancient army surplus bomb disposal robot, two grapefruit an a floral frock so it is. Daf Uisdean tried tae brighten it up by stickin' a piccie o' one o' yon Spicey Girls on it but it couldnae see right an gave auld Tommy Podgournie a pint o' Drambuie instead o' McEwans....he's no been right since so he hasnae.
Look, you two...
The automatic barmaid isn't called "Ma'arse", "Marcy", "Marcel", or anything like that. She's nothing to do with Army surplus, and she doesn't even know Mustang Silly, let alone operate at 145 bleats per minute, (not like thon automatic sheep of Totquil's).
She's a barmaid -- albeit automatic.
Show some respect and shout out your drinks, in plenty time before she bleeps last orders. And, leave a good tip, eh?
Yours,
Grungy Gordon, the late-night Peephole Peeper.
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