One time when I was bartending a slow Monday night, a guy in his 40s told me I was like “the Ducks in Branson, Missouri” (What ever the fuck that means)
Then complimented my on the size of my pinkie finger,
Then proceeded to lean over the bar in attempt to smell my crotch. Quite possibly one of the strangest, grossest, and most unsuccessful pickup endeavors I’ve ever experienced. ewww.
-Linds
I’ve been to Branson, MO. The DUCKS are these open top truck tours that also operate as a boat. Apparently they were used in world war 2 or something. Anyway, I don’t really get his analogy.
Ugh!