Bert, his godson Ben and my own self were sitting in a fish and chip café this evening. There were only two other customers, two chubby, middle-aged men tucking into big chip suppers. We were waiting to be served.
One of the servers came down clutching a jar of gherkins. She said to the chubby fellows,
Gentlemen I hope youse don’t mind me interrupting your meal but could one of you open this jar for me?
One of the men took the jar and opened it.
Thanks so much! I had to ask you for youse are the only men in here.
I looked at my Bert, looked upon his beardy face and admired his strong sinewy arms and large capable hands. I laughed (weakly). He laughed (in a manly kind of way). But I felt slighted at her assumption that my man was a wimp. Our meal came. It was shite. I’m never eating there again.