fiddle dee

She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone i know i know... mercutio was talking about me

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Cest mon ami??

I cannot use his real name… Kampala is too small a town and the world seems to be converging towards one centre… like a black hole of sorts- it must be the shrinking poles… think drowning polar bears and mating penguins… north and south poles…any other thought qualifies for a not so happy one month in this new year! So I shall pick Claude.

My very first introduction to Claude was as a pawn being rammed down his throat by his CD. His uninterested jaded outlook gave way to a distant gleam that was fully matured to the full tale tell signs of a amateur poker player with aces… oh dear, I really did push it this time- this wasn’t the deep end, more like we’re in the dark waters darling, think astronomy, astrology or whichever noun you think will get to shore if the sharks, or unfriendly giant jelly fish, no- sting rays don’t get you first. Then again, if you cant swim- might as well drink up and drown as fast as possible.

Now I may tickle your fancy or bore you to death with the details of the relationship I had with him…. But don’t want to send you to sleep so early in the year- let’s just say, that was a proper introduction to the bitchy world of advertising that I still so love; loved; still love. Work and the additional perks (look at package)

So several years later on the eve of 2008 we hook up again- Chinese dinner, lining our alarmingly thinning stomach walls, or whatever shock therapy all the articles and books say about fueling up before drinking… and we picked up the thread of thought from… uuuh who cares when.

After five minutes of initial bunter- what have you dropped, picked up… I noticed and he says meet Laura. Who is quick to mention how the first trimester’s a bitch… hmmm. Once again fast forward… dinner, fireworks, pub, cab, home… the after party? Yep- breakfast and still yipping on… crash out at various uncomfortable positions guaranteeing a mammoth hangover.

Up at lunch time; hair of a dog; more yik yak… and when the clock struck 3.34… zip- we were done… and as I reflected in not so comfortable silence, in between throwing morsels of conversation at girlfriend I realised… all we did was recap talk, and recap bitch, and recap gossip and recap recap… stop thinking Lissing, go with the moment...going gone

Time to go home. Happy new year… should do this again.

Ps

No- we never did shag!

3 Comments:

Blogger Savage said...

what? You started the year not getting laid? What a shame.

7:55 PM  
Anonymous Lovely Amphibian said...

who's been yanking your chain these last few weeks? there's a fire in yout tone.

10:13 PM  
Blogger Iwaya said...

Oh Savage!

2:18 AM  

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