We do it to afford perfume, pay rent and avoid working at the Co-op. But is it really worth slaving away serving flat lager to crusty old sleaze bucket men who make sexual in-your-endo’s every time you say ‘small or large?’ Women had a tough slog to begin with, from the late 1800s to the early 1900s the picture of a barmaid was painted with scorn- men believing they were ‘loose’ and lured poor punters into pubs to squander their dosh. And so the stereotype stuck. We stepped up in World War Two to fill the gap, only to be ousted again after all the men returned: ‘Who wants the hand that rocks the cradle mixing whiskey sours?’. Male bartenders argued that women would be bad conversationalists, inefficient and flirtatious. Yeah right, we’re the ones that cause the fucking trouble.
Welcome to the local He-Man Woman Haters Pub where men are intelligent, politically correct kings and women are privileged humble servants of ‘amber nectar’, at your service. Oh and please look at our boobs, there’s nothing worse than a respectful man. Here’s what we’re not-at-all-sarcastically thinking…
1. We don’t mind being interrupted while serving other patrons by complaints of how many millimetres of head you should have on your beer. With a pub full of gasping, spluttering booze hounds, froth should definitely be our number one priority.
2. We aren’t annoyed nor disgusted when you ‘shoo’ us out of the way of the football when we’ve come to collect the mountain of glasses you’ve accumulated.
3. We lend a sympathetic ear when you are slurring and slobbering over the bar about how lonely you are and how great our ass looks in those jeans. We are definitely not thinking about how you are older than our Dad.We agree with your non-sexist comments about how ‘those were the days were men were men and women were grateful’. You are most certainly not a horrible bastard.
4. We thoroughly enjoy the repetition of your hilarious Dad jokes. Our favourite one is ‘He got done last week for breaking into a pound coin, but they let him off- it was his first offence’. We don’t at all contemplate glassing you every time we hear it.
5. We love your terms of endearment for us, especially ‘Doris’, ‘Dahlin’ and ‘Oi, You’. We know how hard names are to remember. And we aren’t offended by your implication that we can’t count when you believe the change from your ninth pint is short.
6. You’re right to beg us for a lock in twenty minutes after we call time. The last thing on our minds is getting the fuck out of here as soon as possible. Your lack of manners is not an issue; common decency is such a waste of time, especially when you could be pouring a pint down your gullet.
7. You are correct. We must be lesbians if we don’t fancy accepting a drink from you. And yes, we should definitely get a pole in here. We like accepting beer soaked fivers and think it’s entertaining to chase you around the venue with the card machine when you’ve only entered three PIN numbers in.
8. You have every right to be annoyed when we nip downstairs into the cellar to change a barrel- we’re sorry your glass was empty for thirty seconds and you absolutely do deserve a 30p discount. You most certainly do not talk utter shit. To sum up, you are right, we are wrong and warm glasses are the devil.