Woke up this morning writing Haiku again. Wrote a really nice one and was going to post it here, but a couple of weeks ago I came across a site that had helped themselves to one of my posts. They linked it back to my page but clearly claimed to have written it, and anyway, they had not asked for persmission. So I'm not posting anything I might be able to use in the real world... having said that I'm about to turn the following into my Grumpy column for Tsunami.
After writing the poem I remembered a silly incident when I was saying goodbye outside a pub to a couple of friends, a mate and his new girlfriend who I'd met for the first time. Did the blokey handshake with him, then did the peck on the cheek with her which I often accompany with a gentle squeeze of the shoulder if a hug is not going to happen. She turned ever so slightly at just the wrong moment so that I gently cupped and squeezed her breast. Horrified, I pulled back and acted as though nothing had happened and hoped that no one had noticed, looking around like gee isn't it a nice day. A frozen moment, then she said loudly in her polite British accent, "Quick - did you just fondle my breast?" While the mate looked at me with mock contempt and said my name threateningly. The Dreaded One smirked and shook her head.
I didn't hear the end of it for ages. Every time the couple introduced me to their friends it was with a warning. They'd move me back to arms length and say, "Watch him. Watch his hands. He moves fast."
Anyone else made a lasting first impression?
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4 comments:
This is a first impression of sorts… on my first day in a new job my colleagues and I wound up at the pub (I knew I’d made a good career move at this point) Now I’m embarrassed to admit this but I had one (very big) glass of wine and coupled with an undercurrent of dehydration, found myself the wrong side of tipsy.
Gauging the angle of the slippery slope I was approaching I decided it would be in my best interests to make my farewells. I slurred out a jumble of wrong names and nonsensical mutterings then stood up and crashed into a table. Having seen the disastrous scene unfolding in slow motion (or was that just me moving with a drunkard’s deliberate steps?) I sought the fasted route out of the pub. But somehow a chair leapt out and snared my feet. I fought it off bravely, waving my fist and slurring threats to keep it at bay. I then had an altercation with the doorway but battled my way to freedom.
One of my colleagues caught up at this point having run the gauntlet with surprising ease, and thwarted my plans to drive home. I settled for a little snooze in my car instead and had nightmares about going to work the next day.
Oef...
Amra - what is with you and the guber stories? STOP TELLING GUBER STORIES! Or not. They're pretty funny.
Pointing out that someone's skirt is tucked into their undies is a weird one if you're a guy. I once pointed it out to a woman who had just come out of a changeroom, and she looked down, adjusted her skirt, and shot me the filthiest look you could imagine. I was like, fuck you bitch, thought I was doing you a favour, next time I see you wander out of a changeroom with your skirt tucked into your panties, you're on your own.
Gab - you've just reminded me of a really humiliating first intro involving booze. Oh God.
Zoomy... Oef? Is that like uurgh? Like a verbalised shudder? Or is it an acronym that I am unaware of?
Lasting first impression? I have so many embarassing tales to tell, where do I start? Tales about unzipped zipper, unbuttoned skirt, hand stuck in car window, car wheel flying off and rolling down the street...
That person who swiped your writing, clearly claiming to have written it...that bothers me.
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