Friday, September 26, 2008
I know it's an oldie, and yes I know I took liberties as the father of the bride when telling it, but it was really used, if you recall to describe the compatibility of the two young people in question.
I'd tell the whole story, this is the bit about her, but it's more fun knowing that he'll be squirming in angst ridden discomfort until the second part is released, perhaps in a few minutes, or perhaps never.
I was reminded of it while cleaning up the street number above, a found item whose history is safe until next week, and since this is the first time I think, since I decided that I would meet a regular publishing day that I've missed it, it's time for the to wheel out a "ready made".
We were in the local fish and chip shop, my youngest daughter and I, (clearly it was my turn to prepare a meal), waiting amid the wafting smells of seafood boiling in an ocean of vegetable oil. One other customer hovered just outside the doorway, but apart from that the town was deserted, as though it had been evacuated in the aftermath of some monstrous natural disaster.
"Number four" called the cheery voice from behind the counter in an accent that showed just a hint of Vietnamese.
"Oh no", enquired the youngest, by then an almost mathematical prodigy, but some years before her collection of University Papers began to litter the walls,"We're going to be here all night!"
"Why?" I inquired, looking around and failing to notice anyone other than the aforementioned doorway hoverer, who clearly was next in line before us.
It was at that moment I realised that while there are the sort of people in life who believe their glass to be half full, and there are the sort of people who believe it to be half empty, there are also the sort of people who read their fish shop queue docket upside down.
at 7:27 am