Oh Doodle don't put yerself down! I am sure you'll look just gorgeous in your too-tight Lycra ball gown. The Argy regulars like a bit of flesh on show, so I'm told, so your bum resting on your shoulder blades will go down a treat. You know the male clientele aren't fussy.
I am sitting in Lemon's old chair in the corner, listening to all the gossip about our Marydoll and her expected septuplets. Well I never. it's good to know us old birds regular ladies still have pulling power although when Trev told me I looked good enough to eat the other day he did compare me to the stale cheese and onion pasties we tried to flog recently.
I have decided I shall put chicken fillets in my WonderBra this festive season, and stick bits of holly in my cleavage. If I don't attract the chaps at least I'll get a bit of a prick to keep me going. And no, I don't mean Maureeese, who continues to loiter by the bar in his wife-beater vest and skin tight jeans. He's taken to slicking back his quiff with stale chip fat. He knows few of us can resist a portion - of chips - so he's doing quite well with the ladies at the moment - those desperate tarts ones with no standards and less taste than the Argy's watered down home brew, that is.
I am pervingassessing Thor's performance behind the bar from this dark corner. Someone has to do it, to update the personnel records. I am not even being paid for this necessary administrative chore!