It doesn't happen too often thankfully, given my propensity for frequenting bars of notoriety, that I get into an unresolvable disagreement with a fellow fool. Thus it was last Saturday that a gentlemanly disagreement compelled me to turn a chair over a chap of minimimilist logic. He left quickly.
I felt badly afterwards but felt much worse when a fellow patron of the bar pointed out the poorly executed alteration the fleeing fuck-wit had made to my jacket. I was however relieved that I managed retain some dignity; my silk pocket square stayed in place during the entire cuffufle.
I usually remove my hat before embarkation, as this usually signals to any fellow wrangler of my unhappy intentions, i.e. To instill a firm understanding of “The Gooobye Look.” He shall be hearing from my Tailor!
I've been offline for quite a while so apologies for lack of postals. Here then is local hero bar owner and roaster of highly aromatic chicken, Chicken's Miguel. He has also mastered the art of creating sub zero bottled beer that is not frozen on the inside, and you can see that he is rather proud of his achievement. If you look at the calendar behind him he has thoughtfully nailed a rubber chicken on to it, which is nice. Observe additionally the curvature of his torso reflected upon the counter.