We've a late table, another one that doesn't understand when exactly we close, and makes an afternoon of a "business lunch". The one, an elderly Italian, the other, a strapping, blousy tart, coworker of the Italian.
The owner discovers them, he's in a rare temper today, swinging between extremes, sits down, begins to work on the tart...
He tells her of his hunting, he's bagged a trophy whitetail deer. I can hear the conversation from where I stand watching the table, trying not to eavesdrop, but they're the only table in the restaurant...this is true.
When she goes the bathroom he confirms with the guest that she's not his lover...doesn't want to be too forward...indiscreet...
He's shot a couple of elk, they've gotten away...true. "Coyote Food" is how he describes them to me, they won't live, but somehow they eluded his stalking...
But the story's just gotten a whole lot better, he's drawing in the blousy tart...
"I tracked it for 4 hours through the snow, following the blood, I was amazed it lived, and then I discovered the scent had been picked up by a grizzly bear...it charged me...what was I to do? I didn't want to shoot it, although it was charging me, so I fired into the air..."
And we've crossed the line here into complete and utter bollocks, but if she buys it, well, good for him...