Hot and heavy at the Dancing Goat

My Fool is puzzled.

According to his way of thinking, an old, bald man in a pink dress running around a bar saying things like "Hey gorgeous, I'm the famous ***", is not a guaranteed score. Quite the reverse, he would have thought. He finds it hard to imagine anything further from sexy. Anything less appealing.

Of course, I hasten to add that my Fool is absolutely not talking about ME, here. I don't wear a dress, I wear a robe. And it's not pink, it's ROSE. And I'm not old. Not very, anyway. My Fool is presenting a purely hypothetical discsussion, I think.

Be that as it may, my Fool clearly just doesn't get it. Despite his best efforts at being a total pain-in-the-arse slimeball, there is a breed of elf - not just elves, I suppose, but others too - who, on being approached by an elderly bald gentleman in a pink dress, saying "Hey gorgeous", responds in two seconds flat with a grab to the groin and an invitation to a back room.

Now, this doesn't happen always. But often enough, goodness knows.

Personally I don't see anything wrong with a quick visit to a back room with a cute elf chick, but my Fool has a rather suspicious nature. He's firmly of the belief that any seemingly cute elf chick who wants to get it on with an old bald guy in a pink dress is almost certainly really an old bald guy, maybe in a pink dress himself.

Oh dear. Whew, here comes Beorbrand. Saved by the cavalry.

I'm not sure I'll be allowed into the Dancing Goat again.