"Ok," I said with authority. "I wanna buy a round for all the Mullets and Jorts in the bar."
"What's that mate," the bartender questioned?
"Jorts. Mullets. They get one drink on me."
"Jorts and Mullets?"
"That's right. Everyone one of them in the pub gets a free drink."
"I'm sorry mate," he said confused as all get out. "But I have no idea what you're going on about."
I explained to him the true meaning of Mullets and Jorts. He stared at his colleague who responded with a blank stare and a shrug. The bartender then rang a bell and took a deep breath.
"Gents and girls," he bellowed. "Jorts and Mullets get one free drink on the yank." He pointed at me with a smirk.
People started crowding around me asking what the hell I was talking about. Some knew, but they played dumb and had fun with those who were unfamiliar. One young couple approached me and needed to know the definition of those terms.
"Well you see now," I said. "Jorts and mullets...."
".....are the coolest brand of people you will ever meet," interrupted a random American who approached my stool. "They have the coolest hairstyle every. Business in the front, party in the back."
"Jorts," his girlfriend carried on. "Are jeans cut into shorts. Denim you know?"
Oh this is cool.
"What would even make one cooler," she said. "If you were wearing the three wolf moon tshirt."
Oh yeah. We became fast friends.
The Aussies were confused until one accused us of pulling their leg. I tried to differ saying that if you go into a little town called Longview Washington dressed in denim shorts and sporting hockey hair that you'll be the sexiest man alive. I didn't tell them that in that town you could probably wear Osh Kosh B'Gosh and cover yourself in deer urine and you'd get laid within twenty minutes.
Finally we relented and told them how Yanks view those who sport such a style. Most were shocked, but some laughed as they knew what the deal was all along.
It gets better.
"So," some random girl said with a smile. "Does this mean I don't get a free drink?" I stared her up and down.
"No mullet," I replied. "And no jorts. Sorry my lady, but you don't qualify."
"I have them at my place."
"Run along and don't come back till you show up with jean shorts," the American girl said.
"I'll be counting the seconds," I said. She started to dart out of there as I yelled a countdown.
We all had a good laugh and drank some while I made small talk with the locals. One called us three the coolest Yanks ever and ensured we drank heavily. This was at three in the afternoon.
The Aussie girl came back in what was quite possibly the shortest denim shorts I have ever seen. The other American got a punch in the arm from his girlfriend when his eyes wandered no where but on the local gal.
"Excuse me sir," I said to the bartender without missing a beat. "One drink for the Jort girl."
I have no idea what came over me. I don't normally engage in this kind of behavior as I'm a quiet guy, but then again I did start drinking at like 10am. I'm afraid I wasn't representing the US well, but still everyone was having a really good time. I decided to make my goodbyes to the fifth pub I visited that day before I get myself into trouble. Everyone thanked me for the entertainment and wished me a good holiday. I got invited to a beach party.
Yeah I like this country.
"God bless America. God save the Queen. God defend New Zealand and thank Christ for Australia." - Russell Crowe