I got to the pub just before kickoff. I Sat upstairs out on the deck; a large TV screen was at one end near to the entrance. The place was *heaving but I managed to get a beer and perch on the edge of a table without too much hassle. There was your standard array of English blokes and some *lasses, in football tops, along with a *smattering of people *suited and booted who had clearly *knocked off work early to watch the game. I even saw and smelt somebody openly smoking a *spliff, Chile was clearly more liberal than I’d been led to believe.
Everyone was just standing around chatting waiting for the match to start. I don’t remember much about the game, I never do when I watch in the pub, just your usual cheering and shouting at the screen, punctuated with lots of oohs and ahhs. The most important thing is that England won, topping the group, and most of the crowd seemed pleased.
After the game, as the bar started to thin out, I went inside to escape the heat. I noticed a very attractive lady, around 30, sitting alone and to my delight she asked if I would join her. She was absolutely stunning, wearing tight-fitting trousers, a black leather jacket and a very revealing black lace bra top, which apparently are very much in fashion these days, so of course I said yes and offered to buy her a drink. We got talking; she told me that her name was Maria, and she was from Colombia but worked in Santiago in advertising. At first, she seemed genuinely keen but after learning what I did, a lowly teacher, she lost interest fast and her eyes started wandering. Scanning the bar, she seemed displeased and insisted we go outside where the vast majority of expats were.
The second we got out there, she *fixated on a group of gents in suits and was not really listening to anything I had to say in the slightest, I had gone from hero to zero, but I was fine with that, at this point we were both looking for an out. Thankfully, we struck up a conversation with said banker types on the next table, who turned out to be really nice guys – a mix of British and South African. A few drinks deep, more and more randoms started to join our group. I talked to those ranging in age from their 20’s to 50’s. Teachers to bankers to cybersecurity workers. From the cocky to the quiet. Some part Chilean living with family, others married to locals. Some were single whose work had merely landed them there at that time and place. A microcosm of the expat scene as a whole.
I struck up a conversation with one of the bankers David, he was in his 50’s and *right off the bat it was clear that he was not as affable as the others, to be frank an arrogant *tosser, completely *full of himself, or as we say, a bit of a *wanker banker. “Do you like living in Chile?“ I asked. “I’ve lived here for 20 years, what do you think?” he said *testily. Later as the conversation opened up a bit more, I asked “Have you been to Patagonia? only to be given the exact same answer; I couldn’t help but smile. Around 6pm, after he had heard me speak to the group for a while, he suddenly decided that he liked me and had a “good feeling” about me, and subsequently pulled me aside for an on-the-spot *impromptu job interview for a sales position at his company. He was quite possibly just *pulling a little *power trip or trying to show off and impress me or others; I’d never heard of anyone getting a job in the world of finance from a chance meeting in the pub, so he was probably full of shit, but there’s a first for everything, I guess. Either way, he was clearly a *cantankerous *twat and not someone I would’ve been happy to work for, but I played along, nonetheless. David, thankfully left early – I never did hear if I was successful, and unlike other interviews, I didn’t ask for feedback.
It was still hot on the deck and understandably Maria’s Jacket was off. However, there seemed to be a wardrobe malfunction, as her lace top kept falling down – not just a little bit, but all the way down, baring her breasts and nipples for all to see. I’m not one to judge, after all we’ve all had our fair share of embarrassing moments.
One of the bankers, Simon, from the UK, politely tried to tell her that her top had come down and that she was exposing her breasts. Instead of thanking Simon, she seemed massively aggrieved and scowled and cursed at him, arguably a normal reaction to being embarrassed. She put them back in, only for them to pop out again a few minutes later; whenever anyone gently brought this to her attention, she’d get angry again. So, there we were in broad daylight sitting around talking away to each other and this woman was just sitting there with her tits just hanging out. It was surreal. some people were gawking, others didn’t know where to look. It was very odd to say the least, so bizarre in fact, the bankers later said it was one of their weirdest experiences in their time in Chile. It was my second or third night; I know how to attract them.
