Well, I suppose you're all wondering about my day. You are? Great. I'll tell you. Today I munched around town wearing an army reserves bum-bag (a tampon, as it's known in the U.S.), which I had stuffed full of chocolate bars and Polaroid™ digital cameras, and frequented (went to) a number of flashy dives. Well, cafés. I decided to meet a different friend for each one, and my first was, of course, Ben. Oh, the ears on that man!
"What's in the bum-bag?" he asked, a forkful of lumberjack cake prostrating in his mouth.
"Well, chocolate bars — but you're already eating cake, so you can't have one!" I snapped. In retrospect, I'll admit it was rather snappier than was necessary in the circumstances.
"Calm down," said Ben, with due cause. "I was only curious. And you're quite right: This cake is plenty enough for me at the moment."
"Good to hear. So't's nice?"
"Very. It would not be hyperbolic to call it delicious."
"Fab."
"Mm," intoned Ben, and we paused.
"Jesus," he added a moment later. "Shall I write it off as déjà vu?"
"It's for the best," I replied. "Otherwise the repetition will get you down."
"But we've done this for a year."
"Well, so's the sun risen everyday."
"Huh?"
"I don't know." I pushed my plate away morosely and fished a chocolate bar from my bum-bag.
"Oh all right," I said, "you can have one." I retrieved another and offered it to him.
"N'anks," he said, waving it away. "I said the cake was enough and I was telling the truth."
I shrugged a faux nonchalant shrug and placed the milk chocolate & caramel creation back 'neath the zip.
"I could kill you off or something," I suggested optimistically.
"No, that's the easy way out. At this point, only S.C. and J.J. could pump fresh life into it."
"Sigh."
"Christ, don't do that. When people actually say Sigh instead of sighing it, it makes my skin crawl a K."
"Whatever."
"Followed closely by people saying Whatever when their pride's pricked."
"I'm going to go now."
"Are you? Well, I'm going to say Bye then, and finish my cake."
"You've already finished."
"Not the next piece, I haven't."
"Ah. Well, bye."
"Yep."
The rest of my encounters that day were especially forgettable, and I forget them.
Duck, Duck, Cockatiel
-
The move is officially complete, though I'm still living with a few islands
of stuff—the main one located in what agents like to call the "meals area".
Rea...
7 years ago
18 comments:
You were going to write those encounters but you realised bens encounter went too long and gave up.
I would've done the same thing though...
I can't help it if Ben's a spotlight hog. Still, it's probably better than if I had done all the encounters. I know you all want more Ben.
I enjoyed your retelling of the conversation. :) It's been a while since I've seen mention of a bum bag.
It's been a while since I've worn one too. Yes, they were cool once. They were the glorious union between a backpack and a wallet, but with the practicality of neither.
Oh he is. My heart flutters at the very thought of him. Oh. Oh.
LOL. Another fit of ecstasy, Hugh? :P
But can you blame me?
I don't know Ben, so I'll have to take your word for it that he induces heart flutters. :)
You don't know Ben? *gasp* What's that like?
It's painful. My life is empty. *Sniffles*
There there. His blog may tide you over for a while. And the lord knows I'll keep mentioning him here too. We'll do everything we can to make sure your life is Ben-less no longer. *handing you a handkerchief personally signed by Ben*
*Eyes widen* Aw, shucks! A signed handkerchief!
And see that stain? That's all Ben.
I haven't decided yet whether I'm the type of Ben fan to appreciate or be grossed out by that information. :P
Why, it's the former, of course. Count your blessings before a fellow Ben fan chloroforms you and you wake up to find a house full of everything but a stained Benkerchief
What scarf? Turtle?
Hugh, you ripped me off! :P
Oh... I... Well... Gee... I can explain! I was planning to give them to you, you see. I was! I just wanted to whet your appetite with the Benkerchief so you'd fully appreciate the scarf and the turtle. Wait, no. What am I saying? You can't have them! They're mine! All mine!!!! I'd sooner strangle the turtle with the scarf (not an easy feet) than hand them over! And see that handkerchief? Why, that's not Ben's! It's mine! I sneezed into myself! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!! Sorry, what were you saying?
That was *your* bodily fluid, Hugh?! Excuse me while I go have an acid bath to wash it off. Yuckyuckyuckyuck. :P
Does this have anything to do with the spittle on that Humbug?
About that sexual awakening thing, is Humbug a euphemism?
Post a Comment