Historically, Ms Robinson has had very little to do with F*****g V********'s D*y and so naturally she is bitter and twisted that she has not been deemed worthy of some red roses (ugh) from the local garage and a teddy bear - surely the most sensual and erotic prelude to any evening?
When Ms R was paying penance in the corporate world she did enjoy the day's vicarious pleasures. You'd arrive in the morning to see all the PA's on a knife edge. It was like mass PMT. You knew they'd made it clear to their boyfriends that if they didn't dispatch the roses and choccies, they'd be dancing on their graves, not in Louboutins, but cheap white stilletos.
The countdown starts. Of course they're not doing any work. And then, the first call from reception. The girlies wait. "Pick me. Pick me. Ten Hail Marys, pick me. Don't let it be that cow Shazza."
Sadly it's Shazza who's first cab off the rank. Big triumphant smile as she heads for reception. You half expect her to make an Oscar style speech. The others pretend they're fine. "Oh Shazza,I'm so pleased for her." Like fuck you are. I've heard you talking you two-faced bitch.
Minutes later, Shazza returns, flashing a smile that perfectly illustrates why NHS dentists are crap. She has roses in her fleshy arms. Not twelve. But thirteen. "One for our anniversary" she tells the others. What anniversary. "Our one month." Oh fuck me.
The phone rings
It's Shazza's squeeze.
"Oh babes, you shouldn't have"
But you've been nagging him since Christmas you stupid shitforbrains. He had no choice.
"Babes they're luverly"
"See ya tonight babes."
It's getting close to lunchtime. The others look worried. "Call reception. She's probably too busy to call."
By 3pm, nothing else has arrived, including Ms R's photocopying.
4.30 pm. Nada. A call from reception. It seems there are several arrivals at once. The girls suddenly come to life, and for some inexplicable reason reapply their makeup and brush their hair. "You're only collecting flowers," says Ms R but is met with glares. Why not change your G-string while you're at it ? Or better still get a tramp stamp for the occasion? Oh you've all got one. Of course.
5pm The PA's sit in the office surrounded by their haul. Ms R's photocopying is not done. Kazza hasn't received her 'surprise'. The other girls are trying to reassure her. It's like someone has died.
"Don't worry sweetie, I'm sure he's not forgotten."
He hasn't. He's sent two dozen and a monstrous teddy bear. Either he's screwing around or he's going to dump her. Tomorrow.
But for the moment all is sweet. The blokes have not only bought their tall red insurance policies; they also know that if they want to ask for the threesome/anal/best friend this is the time to do it
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
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In 1960 Uncle replaced his old 1955 Bristol 405, with a shiny Bentley S2 Continental Four Door Flying Spur in a metallic burgundy. At the time he was a very proud man.
He owned that car until his death, by stroke, in 1972 at the age of 51. Not once did he check the oil or water, nor did he even trouble himself to pay a garage mechanic to service the old bus either; it was his way. Not for a second did he ever once consider that it might fail him one day; on reflection I suppose he must have been equally insensible to his own inner workings. Anyway after his death my father inherited the car, and found it in a very sorry state; but he lavished care and time on it, and he still drives down to the shops in it to this day.
Johnny darling man, I am looking for the analogy but you need to help me. I am having a titanium rod put into my gum this afternoon and am not as alert as I should be.
give ms r a good rodding someone - not an nhs dentist we pray...
'babes' ah yes that mark of a certain person. similar to 'chap' or fella' used in the vocative - you just know the user, somewhere in his secret soul, smokes a pipe.
the best date i ever had was with my CLP at a time when we were split up but socialising. we went for a curry and had both honestly forgotten it was FVD (hard to believe given the hysteria) and of course the assumption was that we were an item. the fact that we knew each other very well, had been an item for the previous 4 years, the presence of silk roses for the laydee and that neither of us had any issues about whether we were going to get laid that night - we both had a better chance with the waiter than with each other - moved us beyond the surreal and into the calm of a sexless millpond buffeted on all sides by cataracts of hope and barely-masked pheromone. nirvana.
the curry was, however, fairly ordinary.
good luck at the dentist's.
I almost stopped reading at those Mary Janes. (Heavens part at the realization that I am a 38 as well – I think. There's that whole UK/'merican size conversion thingee and you know how I hate math).
But I kept reading because this is so spot on funny/tragic. The grown up version of what we used to go through in high school where boys – get this – purchased individual flowers for girls from a vendor in the principle's office and had them delivered in home room. WTF? Let's just cripple ourselves right from the start why don't we?
SW,
CLP..? Cleft lip and palate?
MS R.
A metal rod? Have you lost a tooth?
There is no analogy to be discovered in my short history tale. My Father has a way with him that brings its own reward; whereas my dear Uncle's philosophy brought him little.
Hoping your smile is restored,
Johnny
JH - CLP - chosen life partner - a non-exploitative non-gender/sexuality discriminating mutually-fulfilling low-oppression descriptor of me girlfriend also mother of little bastard love children.
i like a TLA
SW(and Johnny) I had a root canal and a crown that cost £400 and it failed. The root cannot take another crown. Now I must have an implant. £2400 that should have come as part of a Random House cheque but hasn't. They pull the tooth and put a titanium rod in and for ten weeks we pray that it heals. And then they make a crown. As you can see SW it is not NHS. And of course I can only have soft food (which I detest)At least I can drop a kilo that is bothering me. It is a mini op but local anasth. The general was £500 extra!!
As for FVD, I hate it so much as it falls into the category of compulsory fun, like New Year's which I also run away from. Anyway since the end of last year, I'm hiding from boys for a while. One thing really rocked my judgement.
Moi: I think it's the same size- European. Are they not the most gorgeous shoes? As for FVD, yes women who should know better are getting themselves wound up. It's wrong, wrong, wrong.
Johnny: You make me smile. x I am going to the dentist this minute. I will be back in four hours.
Sw: I always figure in relationships I know who I am and as with work am not worried by titles. I am reluctantly off to dentist.
SW,
One learns something every day, whether it is worth the learning or no.
I have emailed you a link MsR, which I believe will amuse you for a few short moments post-titanium rod insertion.
Will you be able to pick up radio transmissions on your titanium rod? Or am I confusing cartoons with reality again?
No one enjoys the stigma that accompanies VD, but it is so hard to avoid, no matter how selective you are. You think you've chosen a nice clean shop, no obvious signs of VD, and then you realise you are looking at a shelf full of cutesy teddy bears holding lovehearts and you need to hurry home for a bath.
Methinketh the lady Robinson protesteth too much and secretly wishes she got fuzzy wuzzy bunnies and bears and wed woses and soppy cards with pictures of puppies and kittens and whispered sweet nothings over dinner a deux followed by services taken and rendered with a smile. No?
Hope the dentist was gentle with you!
JH - never said it wouldn't be a waste of your time
Freddy: You always look after me. I am back now and boy did it hurt. I think the anaesthetic wore off as they drilled into the gum. I must lie down. Apparently it will now swell up and I will look horrid tomorrow.
Luka: Cheap Luka. Cheap is how it makes me feel.
Conan: Honestly? No. I've never run with the pack in any respect. I detest contrivance, false sentiment and soppiness. What I do love is real passion - and you don't manufacture that on a given date. The kind of men who fall into line on Feb 14 probably wouldn't interest me as they wouldn't have a big enough imagination. But the man who met me for five minutes once, followed me down the street, got my work address and then sent a huge bunch of flowers (lilies) a few hours later, well that was cool. And yes, I had lunch with him that evening.
fvd gives me the willies, and never in a good way.
damn and blast those teeth, MsR. I hope tomorrow is not too painful.
Damn - *now* you tell me MsR.
Bittersweet: And we know what willys are in a good way, don't we?
Evil Brother Geek: Ok, what do you want: threesome, anal or a friend. It'll take more than roses if you want it all.
First, I hope you have some lovely pain meds and second... I hate V-Day too.
eeeh some women, they see a private education and a law degree and suddenly it's anal or threesomes or friendship if you buy me roses...
Dick the Butcher got it right in Henry vee aye...
Thank you AB. I shall put out a dictatorial decree re V day I think. Or we could just go round to all the restaurants on the 14th and round them up?
Freddy: It's only etiquette to offer Geeklawyer a threesome. If he turns me down, I shall offer it to you.
geek is too busy inciting other izlurmists to destroy the fabirc of british society/kill tony bliar/demolish lincoln's inn and erect a centre of legal excellence - so i should get freddy's number pronto.
SW: As Freddy knows, I've been there before him in my not so young, wild days. Fundamentally though he's int MFF whereas I rather enjoyed MMF so it won't work.
Remember this post Freddy:
http://womanofexperience.blogspot.com/2007/08/no-thanks-sappho-my-mouth-is-full.html
Funnily enough - no I don't but I think that may have had something to do with my being away ina musical field at the time, followed by a period of adjustment to the early arrival of a new member of the family...
I'm sure that had I read it I would have commented. (I have now)
As for the current post - is my offer dependent on the Geek saying 'no thanks'?
I was going to be rather 'oooh second choice am I?'
but then again...
Fret not Freddy: I believe Geeklawyer likes posh totty, possibly the blonde variety so olive skinned mediteranneans are out of the question.
As you were.
"... babes..."
Like nails down a blackboard...
DK
P.S. Blonde is posh now, is it...?
DK
DK: That 'babe' thing gets me. You know years ago in my advertising days I went out with a man who called me that and after a month I just couldn't stand it anymore. So false. shame, he had access to very good coke.
I think a lot of men think certain blondes are posh. Oh, fuck what do I know anymore? Nothing.
God it takes me back to when I was working for a very well-to-do firm in a building opposite a very expensive jewellers. FVD would always have at least one female wandering round showing off an engagement ring containing several rocks that cost the equivalent of a year's salary for the secretaries.
Oh the best game is to go and have a drink at the Royal Exchange in the City and watch the Bankers. You can pick whether they're buying jewellery for wife or mistress simply by the shop they choose. Theo Fennell is mistress.
Ms R,
It's "babes" particularly that gets me. An ex of mine called me "babe" from time to time and it was endearing (not least because, since she could have snapped me like a dry twig, it wasn't soppy).
As for the posh thing, well, we have interchangeable Essex Girl and Blonde Girl jokes. Yes, many "posh birds" are bottle blonde, but anyone who would submit fine, dark hair to a widely-ridiculed stereotype may as well have been born blonde anyway.
On another note, alas, I have never gone for someone with olive skin, plus I simply can't be bothered to make a sexual effort anymore: I shall have to read Harry Potter books, in my plush Etonian cadences, for you to fall asleep to instead.
As David Bowie once said in a film, "such a pity."
DK
Oh the occasional 'babe' is ok in the right hands. There was a very charismatic West Coast American in my life who could have called me anything.
As for effort: you know DK since my impressive misjudgement of a man last year, I am far more minded to relax and have fine conversation and some tranquil hash. I actually have a promise to myself that is all I will do until at least March and I will stick to it. As the French say J'en ai marre.
A man once tucked me into bed and read me Shelley. It was wonderful. Not Harry Potter. Think of something else.
And while we're on the subject of types, Ms R's best pal has just reminded her that she has almost always fallen for tall, blonde blue eyed Aryan types. Her first live in lover of six years. Her ex husband. Various surfer boyfriends. The American lawyer. In fact anyone worth loving. A reaction to the dark haired man who broke her heart at eighteen? Perhaps.
Anyway I hold my hand up. I have had more fun with blondes.
See you in March then MsR? Will you find a third, or shall we save that for April?
Truly Freddy, other than a friendly drink I've had enough of men right now. I am still wounded from last year and it's not going away.
you are too too funny
Peach - thank you (but I never win post of the week despite having a trillion nominations)
"But the man who met me for five minutes once, followed me down the street, got my work address and then sent a huge bunch of flowers (lilies) a few hours later, well that was cool. And yes, I had lunch with him that evening."
I did that once and got arrested for stalking.
Outstanding post. Bollocks to VD.
Merci, Mr Sex. Not good enough to win Post of The Week for which I have been nominated too many times.
"But you've been nagging him since Christmas you stupid shitforbrains. He had no choice"
If Shazza had been nagging her squeeze since Xmas how could they only be celebrating their one month anniversary?
Some of us Shazza's / Sharons have a modicum of intelligence -- enough to be able to spot chronological non-sequiturs!
Other than that a post that I generally agree with.
Ms S
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