As the Volvo finally made it ’round the corner she was able to step off the kerb and walk over the roundabout leg, calling a couple of thoughts after it.
Such a day ! – and that nice bloke at the clothing alterations place had taken up the cheap jeans while she waited .. which was just as well, as she’d forgotten to collect the old ones when she left the flat. She blithely stepped up onto the next block of the footpath, a virtuous walking person.
Approaching the next roundabout (Essendon is rife with ’em) she saw a man appear on the left quadrant, fair way away; and as he half-turned to see her, he smile hugely and waved, immediately loudly starting up what was obviously meant to be a conversation but that couldn’t yet be discerned.
“Fuck me !” she said to herself: “do I know this bloke ? – I do not .. At least, I believe I do not ..” and she interrogated her mental gallery of acquaintances. “Oh, hang on !” – as he grew ever nearer – “it’s that fellow from the fresh market – the unfortunate bastard I practise my Italian on !”, and she waved back. “Giorno !” she cried gaily; “come stai ? Fa meraviglioso, no ?” happy in the knowledge that such basic stuff couldn’t be wrong.
They were getting closer, but the very imperfect hearing in her left ear had still not allowed her to make out anything he was saying, so she continued. “Perché sei qui ? – abiti vicino ?” (not nearly so confident, but who gives a shit ?!) and by now they were close enough to make each other’s features out.
Not the bloke from the fresh market. Not anyone she knew.
His face had fallen. “You’re not who I thought you were !” he said accusingly; “for heaven’s sake, why were you talking to me ?” A thought .. “And you were talking IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE !”
Deeply offended, he stalked off in high dudgeon.
She stood there dumbstruck for a moment, then wickedly called after him, vowels flattened, “Whaddya mean, a foreign language ?! – are you quite MAD ?” and watched him stop and turn back for a moment, his face a picture. “Jeez, mate !” she expostulated, throwing her hands in the air.
Then, gleeful, she continued on in her own direction. Very satisfying.
DOWNUNDER WITH BOODZ 
You shouldn’t be allowed out 🙄🥰
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Made me give a shout of laughter ! :D
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Ha ha, very good M-R. Love her come-back.
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They come to mind only occasionally. [grin]
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Well, I hope more do. I thoroughly enjoy them.
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I always think of the perfect come-back — about 20 minutes later.
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I’m usually around 48 hours .. :}
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Called “Staircase wit” (l’Esprit de l’escalier), coined by a French savant. The metaphor is about running up and down many flights of stairs in your mind to find the perfect retort, but alas, it took way too long to find and it was much too late to use (“wittily”, at least) by the time you did.
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Alors en l’avenir j’emploierai cette phrase – je l’aime beaucoup ! :D
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I wonder what story he’s telling his friends about that mad old lady!
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Only the gods know that, Chris ! – but you can be sure HE is blameless in it. :D
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Made me smile. Thanks! :-)
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They say a smile a day isn’t nearly enough. [grin]
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You wicked woman, playing mind games on some poor old sod! Haha. Hilarious!
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But he wasn’t OLD – he was grumpy without the right to be. :D
It’s ME who’s old. Heh heh ..
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I don’t think of you as such
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You’re the top ! :D
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Reminds me of the time long ago in Vienna when I spoke to a chap using my perfect German – I felt so clever – and he answered me in English. So frustrating! I had thought he naturally assumed I was German/Austrian.I obviously didn’t have the accent nailed. I was so grumpy after that! My Italian is appalling M-R.
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Having trouble with the ‘Like’ button – and other things. :(
Mine isn’t a lot better, Sue. That German man was a ponce: most Europeans LIKE outlanders to try to speak their language and even offer help !!
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I’m so glad I didn’t miss this, M-R. Your telling of the tale is absolutely priceless. There are a lot of grumpy people out there. But this guy made a funny story come alive. :-)
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Thank-you, Debra, as always – you’re such a support ! :)
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Well, that was a hoot. You have quite the wit, M-R. I have been embarrassed before, thinking I know someone and having them look at me like I’m a weirdo when I try to speak. Yes, I AM a weirdo, but that’s beside the point. Embarrassing, it is. :-)
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Oh MJ my dear old mate ! – how the devil are you ?? – and the grey one ?
I am living an extraordinary life being a temporary carer for my older sister who’s reached the young age of 86, and am most confused by this sudden responsibility. Let us catch up later: today I take her to a new GP ..
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I’ve been wondering how you are M-R. I’m glad to hear you are apparently OK, albeit busy being a carer. Best wishes from a cold, rainy and windy Spring here near the Blue Mountains!
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Still here, Sue – just with different hair. [grin]
It’s mostly raining in Essendon and ALWAYS windy !! Do you think real spring will ever be ?
This one’s more of a sprinter ..
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Yes M-R, all our Spring blossom has been ruined by either the wind or the rain.
I noticed the hairdo, it suits you.
Good old Melbourne – I used to start out in the mornings wearing a parka and by lunchtime it would be 30 degrees. Good to know it hasn’t changed! Are you going back to do more of your blog eventually?
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Oh yeth ! – I’m caught up in hideous family drama at this time; and I fear it means .. [gasp !] .. I shall have to move again.
The reasons behind so unwanted an activity will be the next post, Sue. :-}
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