Last night, to a dinner party. Dinner parties are invariably a bore, as most people cannot cook and are boring. Very occasionally the food is at least edible and the company entertaining, but rare indeed is the dinner party at which you discover halfway through pudding that your host's lodger (man-like, despite her enormous bosoms), has very surprising interests. A fellow guest and beautiful environmentalist surprised us all (not least our host) by revealing that one night she had asked to borrow mittens from the man-like lodger. "Upstairs, bottom drawer", said the odger. The Beautiful Environmentalist opened the bottom drawer and what did she find? Oh no, my friends, not mittens, but a range of S&M 'gear', made mainly of red rubber, folded carefully in the drawer where the mittens should have been. (She found the mittens in another drawer, and no more was said on the subject.)
As pleasing as this story was, and as charming as the company and food, nothing could prepare me for the heights of joy I was to experience later in the evening. "Coffee, anyone?" said our hosts (a question which translates as: time to go home now, everyone!). "Yes!", we cried, ignoring their unspoken plea to be left in peace. Coffee was made, and cups were brought. And I was given this mug: a mug festooned with head of Atatürk; a mug that made me so happy I nearly wept, for I have long been a fan of Atatürk: he enjoyed wrestling, was very particular about his appearance and had a dog called Fox.
But the best was yet to come. Not only had the food been more than edible and the company sensational, but the host (still in shock following the rubbery revelations), said: "I would like to give you that mug, as it makes you happy. I have two. I can spare it."
Now I am drinking from the head of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk and thinking about mittens, rubberwear, wrestling and a dog called Fox. It is not unpleasant. I shall take Atatürk to the Amsterdam with me, and see if he likes it there.
8 comments:
You would like North Cyprus - there are statues and roads named after Atatürk every few hundred yeards.
yeards?
No
yards, of course.
I can cook and am not boring.
But there again I don't have dinner parties.
Drat. I can cook too, but am v.v.boring. Which is probably why I don't get invited to dinner parties.
S&M Mittens - hold that thought...
Sounds like a memorable evening. I can cook and have interesting friends but boring mugs, sadly.
Aah, I love dinner parties. I once found myself sitting opposite a client, and of course we both spent the whole evening pretending we didn't know each other. I was on my best behaviour (it couldn't have been any other way) with the host asking me why I was so uncharacteristically quiet. I knew so much about this woman (and her unwitting partner) I barely dared to speak. She never came back to therapy. Hardly surprising.
Glad you got to leave with the mug x
UCL - at what time of day do you start drinking?
Anxious - I am Booking A Holiday Forthwith. (Nice work on the running by the way.)
Pants. You are 2 up on me for starters.
Farty - it's a dark thought, to be fair.
Ms M - tell me: how do I get rid of my therapist (short of leaving the country - and This Is Not Necessarily A Joke!). I do not think we would be invited to the same dinner parties. Bearing that in mind, any advice?
Tell them you are leaving?? Or have you tried that one already?
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