The Knitting Bartender

Days at the pub can get pretty slow, so I've decided to bring my knitting along to work. My boss is very cool and knows about my knitting addiction. He teases me all the time about it, but is perplexed and interested at the same time. He hasn't told me not to do it, so I'm assuming it's fine. Besides, some of the other bartenders are doing sudoku and crosswords--no difference, really.

Today I was working on my sock and one of the regulars said "What you makin?" I said it was a sock for a Christmas present. He said nicely, "Well, you could just buy some at the shops." I said politely that, well, it wasn't handmade, and my socks had a lot of thought put into them. He said, "Fair enough." A few minutes later, his old man friend came up to order a Guinness and said "What you makin?" I said socks for a Christmas present. They're supposed to be for my dad, but I'm not sure he'd wear them--they have orange in them and my dad's more of a blue/grey man:



He said, "Oh, but they're handmade. They'd be like a treasure to me. People don't do that anymore, you know. It's like writing a letter. My missus makes Christmas pudding starting in September each year and by Christmas it's a work of art--wouldn't you much rather have that that a Ferrero Rocher?" And he looked so much like Santa, and seemed so touched by the idea of someone knitting socks, that I instantly said My God, why have I been doubting the power of my knitting? I knit a navy blue sweater for my dad last year, and my mum said that when he tried it on he had tears in his eyes. (My gran used to knit lots o' stuff, you see.)

So I think the orange will be ok...whaddayareckon?