Peeking behind the apron.....when it's still on

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went the readers fingers

Twice in in the last seven days I have taken phone calls regarding naked waiter services. Not that anyone has been asking to peek behind my apron. But the women of Belfast seem to want more from their waiters these days than a cheeky wink and good wine recommendation. Some don't even want that!

Let me make this clear....

....not whilst I still have the ability to elevate my nose, and can still say no without having to resort to a voice box, and can button my own shirt and zip my own pants unaided, whilst their is still fight in my blood and sweat on my brow will any god damn buffed up fake waiter with black lycra shorts and dickie bow serve but even a glass of water in my god damn restaurant. As I write this I am standing up with a pair of black trousers held over my head Charlton Heston style,

"Over my cold, dead but covered up legs, will a naked waiter serve in my restaurant."

Naked waiters? They shame us all, even the dogs in the street.......(not that there are many dogs on the street any more, Thatcher killed them all for the fun of it...)