Reputations and chat-up lines

I understand that sometimes I can be as coarse as the next man, but more often than not I like to think of myself as a British Gentleman. However, it seemed that a couple of years ago, my reputation had grown and developed into something which was little to do with the real Bobby.

I was standing in a club in Wigan, which had been my regular club for about six months, waiting for my mate, Seymour Arkles (of the band, 'The Moon-pig Men'), when a girl walked up next to me at the bar. I had noticed her in 'The Flame' before. I clocked her and she clocked me. She ordered her drink from the bar and turned to me to talk. I thought she was going to ask if I wanted to drink or a dance. Instead, she turned and said, 'Sorry, that was me. I just farted.' I was appalled, if not a little amused. When I asked if she thought that was a line to lead me on, she said that it was. She had been told that I was fond of farting women, cheap jokes about bodily functions and other such coarse subjects. Needless to say, we danced for a little, but I wanted a woman to respect me for my intellect and mind. When she left my flat the next morning, I think she had a greater understanding. In fact, she asked if she could borrow some of my Ed McBain books.

I just want to put this to bed: I am fairly amused by the odd joke about bodily functions, but I am - by no means - turned on by them. I may be a little coarse every once in a blue moon, but that is not unlike the top-tier of men. Even royalty must laugh at a knob gag.