Wednesday 15th April 2009 – “Mary-Lou, Are You Ready?”

Newport still has its Folk Festival.  But it's not Bob Dylan now, it's son-of-Bob-Dylan.  Let's just hope he doesn't meet daughter-of-Joan-Baez and take to caterwauling duets.  I'm not aware I've ever heard Jakob Dylan singing.  In fact, until today, I hadn't heard of him at all.  But he featured at last year's festival, along with the sons of Bob Marley.  Children are clearly not rebelling the way they did in the 60's.

I found this out at the bar of the Brick Alley, Newport, where I am studying Sam Adams Boston Lager.  I am also studying the barmaid, who is clearly hopelessly attracted to me.  I ask her name several times, but it's too difficult to remember.  Ah, well, she'll just have to live without me.

The tannoy announces that the restaurant is ready for us.  I toddle off to the loo to finish of the processing of the Sam Adams.  While I'm doing that, a female voice asks me, clearly, if Mary-Lou is ready.  I panic: momentarily, I think I must be in the Ladies.  This, despite the fact that not only is there a row of urinals in front of me, I'm actually using one.  On my way to the table, I share this moment with the owner of the voice, the young lady maitre d' by the microphone.  She falls into paroxysms of mirth.  Women are putty in my hands tonight.

The waitress at the table eyes me nervously.  Her colleagues have clearly warned her of my powers.  But she has no need to worry: I demonstrate my disinterest by momentarily falling asleep.

I take a walk in the cold night air to help calm the women down, and meet a large group of midshipmen in their 'walking-out' uniforms (I asked them).  They are graduating in two days.  They practice their navigation skills getting me back to the restaurant.

Later that same night, back at the hotel, a group of fishermen teach me the ancient game of 'quarters', which is a bit like tiddly-winks, except for the drinking.  They also tell me a long, rambling joke of the same calibre as 'The Aristocrats', involving, among other things, a stolen wallet, a toll booth and a burst condom. 

 

It's no wonder we chaps are so attractive to women.