Gentlemen of largish dimensions

In The Auctioneers today having lunch with my trusty accomplice Mr David (did you just drop one?) Wright and as we were about to partake in the house speciality of fish and chips we were approached by a gentleman of largish dimensions who enquired "Do you know where you are?".

After a brief pause followed by a quick survey of my immediate surroundings I replied in absolute confidence "Aye, how do you?"

This stunning counter move on my part visibly flummoxed the gentleman of largish dimensions who, after what seemed like an eternity and long enough for my accomplice to grab the menu in readiness for his infamous spinning-menu-of-death ninja move, eventually replied "Huh".

It now became apparent that we were dealing, not with the local gunslinger but, with the village idiot.

Having now noticed that he was midway through a text to someone and not being the type to make fool of life's unfortunates I asked the gentleman of largish dimensions "Do you not mean do you know where this is" as I was now presuming he was trying to give his location to whoever would be at the receiving end of his text message.

"Eh, oh aye" replied the gentleman of largish dimensions "Do you know where I am?". At this point realising the immediate threat was over my accomplice relaxed his ninja-like stance and stood down from his infamous spinning-menu-of-death move.

Although as tempted as I was to just reply "you're in a pub" I noted that the gentleman of largish dimensions was able to blot out most of the light coming through the pub window by his presence alone and decided the better of it and instead replied "The Auctioneers".

After some frantic thumbing of his phone followed by an ever deepening furrowed brow, a long pause* and a scratch of his head the gentleman of largish dimensions then asked "can you spell that?"

My accomplice, having placed his menu-come-lethal-weapon back on the table, was now visibly moved to tears by the plight of the gentleman of largish dimensions and his inability to spell his current location.

Several attempts later and much repeating of "No, A-U-C-T-I............" the gentleman of largish dimensions eventually gave up and phoned his intended text recipient to which he obviously asked "Where's that".

My accomplice and I quickly decided a carry out lunch was the order of the day and hurried our departure before the gentleman of largish dimensions asked for his longitude and latitude........

We never knew, or for that matter cared, as to what happened to the gentleman of largish dimensions or his lost companion but he had no idea how close he came to being on the receiving end of the infamous spinning-menu-of-death and prospect of having to remove bits of the words today's specials or scampi and chips from his cranium.

And the moral of this story........?

Never enter a pub that has more than two syllables in it's name, it confuses village idiots.

*Long Pause

Having never measured the exact length of a standard pause I have concluded that a long pause is slightly shorter than a wee minute but longer than a tick.