This Little Piglet Ran All The Way Home
1/ Piglet is an Irish chick with slight traces of a Canadian accent that sneaks up in certain words. She spent some time in Canadia as a young 'un frolicking with the moose and mounties before she left for another moron country- Ireland. Hence the accent. Customers, trying to get cozy with her, will take a stab at the origin of the accent and guess Scottish or American which will earn them a glimpse of an Angry Piglet Face.
2/ Angry Piglet Face: The eyes turn into lethal obsidian orbs capable of turning people to stone. The mouth curls up, ready to spit an acid-like reply. It truly feels like the instant before a volcanic eruption. August 1883, Krakatoa time. It's a look I see often, usually after a comment like: ' What do you do when your dish washer breaks down? Slap her.'
3/ Despite her namesake ( A.A.Milne's sidekick to Winnie-the-Pooh. Piglet the Very Small Animal, professional self-doubter and teacher of Taoist ways) Piglet is quite purdee.
4/...So I gets to thinking- usually the first step before disaster- I've got my friend Irish Chris who is Irish believe it or not, good-looking and single and Piglet who is also Irish, good-looking and single. And a female. Why not set them up so they don't ever breed outside their inebriated race? They can dance jigs, drink their horrible national drink ( tequila) and hire little leprechaun butlers to buy groceries. And for two weeks it was great. Then a breakdown in communication. Then the relationship got ugly. Not like a factory explosion that leaves many dead, more limbless and families widowed/ orphaned but more like an unresolved implosion.
Piglet: NEVER set me up with another one of your friends ever again.
5/ She used to own an asthmatic rat called Henry back home. It got old and eventually passed away. In an effort to be supporting I was about to say a few words of sympathy ( 'Rats are filthy animals that prefer to be dead') but I felt that an Angry Piglet may throw me off the roof of a tall building and kept my silence.
Back to the date. Piglet goes to meet this guy. He's wearing a Ben Sherman shirt which apparently is a big no-no from word go. So he's started off on the wrong hoof. No problem. Puts a card behind the bar. The plan is Typical First Date: Have a few drinks at a bar, go to an unfancy restaurant, watch a second-rate film and bitch about the woeful acting at a cafe afterwards. Piglet got through three sips of her first glass of wine before she decides that It Is Not Working Out. Apparently he is the most boring person she has ever met. Personality of tofu- he's soft, bland and made of soybean curd. He goes to use the bathroom. When he returns she is not there.
'I decided just to grab my jacket and get the hell out of there,' she's telling me '..and the guy at the bar was laughing, the band that were about to play were cheering me on and I just bolted. I ran all the way to the train station.'
'Did he try to call you?'
'Yeah, I was on the phone to a friend when I got a message ( 'HAVE YOU GONE?') and about five minutes later I got another message ( 'JUST TELL ME IF YOU'VE LEFT SO I CAN SETTLE UP THE BILL AND LEAVE') but the battery of my phone died so I couldn't read it till a few hours later.'
The poor schmuck. I can picture it now, someone at work will ask him how his date on Sunday went and receive a punch in the mouth as a response.
That's what happens when you go on a date with the Irish Houdini,