If you've been to any bar, you know what I'm talking about. There you are, enjoying a drink with someone - friend or partner - when out of nowhere, comes a MoFO - Man of Fifty-Odd, fancying that he does have a shot at you. This species is one to beware of. You know they've had their hearts broken in their twenties (usually by this woman whom they cannot get over, who is happily married now, and whom all their later girlfriends are supposed to envy), been in dysfunctional relationships in their thirties, enjoyed their "confirmed bachelor"-hood in their forties, and realised what they've lost out on in their fifties. And what they've lost out on is that leggy woman in her twenties, wearing a little black dress and enjoying some intelligent conversation or some much-needed flirting at the bar table. Not a moment to lose for the MoFO!
And nothing to lose, either. At the most, he's going to get rejected...but hey, there's a Parker in his pocket, he's obviously going to be chivalrous and offer to buy the girl a drink, so his roving eye is justified, isn't it? And, of course, thanks to the fact that Richard Gere, Robert Redford, Clint Eastwood, Amitabh Bachchan, Rajnikanth, Chiranjeevi and the entire gamut will not quit films, the MoFO believes that a man with experience will be considered "sexy" (whether the pot belly is supposed to add to the glamour or the receding hairline supposed to send the GoTO's - Girl of Twenty-Odd's - hormones into raptures is a question I cannot really answer).
So he comes there...and he decides to play it cool. So he starts groovin' to the music...which is usually as corny as Saturday Night, Ice Ice Baby, The La La La La Long Long Song or whatever...and he starts having fun, behaving half his age. This might have to do with proving his stamina - an appropriate comparison from the animal kingdom might be the prelude to the mating dance.
After some time, the MoFO walks over casually, orders a drink and then tries to make conversation with the GoTO.
"Nice music, huh?"
The GoTO will smile politely.
"So what do you do?"
Uhhhh...what does the GoTO say? I'm in school? I'm in college? I am not divorced, with three dependant kids? But of course, all of them seem just a tad cruel. So she does mention, as neutrally as possible, what she does. Whereupon, if she's lucky, she'll get away with being given the MoFO's card. If not, well...she'll have to endure his setting out to prove he's a man of the world...especially if one of her friends grows greedy for a story and chooses to quietly walk away, giggling and keeping an eye on the GoTO to jump in if she needs to be rescued.
Which is why women pub-hop.
However, I myself have grown pretty broadminded after my experience with a MoSO...Man of Seventy-Odd. So he comes up to where a friend of mine, who's in her forties and looks like she's in her thirties, and I are sitting at a bar in Aldgate.
Looking at her, he says "You a'right?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Can I buy you a drink?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Yes. Quite. Thank you."
And then he turns to me.
Which is why women pretend to be lesbian at at bars.