Traumatic Experience
Last night I went to a gathering of mainly middle-aged people, dragged along by my parents. I almost died when my History lecturer appeared, eating an olive and drinking something which looked suspiciously like Baileys. (I asked him later, and he reassured me it was a fruit smoothie. Hmmm.)
We have to stop meeting like this, Kiwi, he said, people will become suspicious.
I'm not sure how many people realised he was joking.
I tried to stay out of his way for as long as possible. He seemed very happy sitting on the floor next to a table with a big plate of food, so I thought I was safe. But no.
He came out of the woodwork a while later, and stood in a such a manner that the only other available standing place was next to him. We had a strange conversation about McDonalds (and why they put the gerkin slices on their burgers), and he told me about his repetive strain injury from writing a paper on Oscar Wilde. He reminded me I hadn't turned up to his last lesson. and introduced me to his best (and very moustachioed) friend.
I told him to put his rabbit-which-he-has-yet-to-buy before any future partners. You tell them, Trev, "I'm sorry, but the rabbit comes first." He laughed a lot and then I fell down a step. I was possibly slightly tipsy. He went off, and I was informed he 'bopped' to the music. He is very old. It is very wrong that he bopped. I am still trying to chase the image from my mind.
The whole thing was entirely mortifying and traumatic, and only funny in retrospect. It will take me a long time to recover.But bless his knee-high cotton socks anyway! He is, afterall, Newcastle College's living legend.
We have to stop meeting like this, Kiwi, he said, people will become suspicious.
I'm not sure how many people realised he was joking.
I tried to stay out of his way for as long as possible. He seemed very happy sitting on the floor next to a table with a big plate of food, so I thought I was safe. But no.
He came out of the woodwork a while later, and stood in a such a manner that the only other available standing place was next to him. We had a strange conversation about McDonalds (and why they put the gerkin slices on their burgers), and he told me about his repetive strain injury from writing a paper on Oscar Wilde. He reminded me I hadn't turned up to his last lesson. and introduced me to his best (and very moustachioed) friend.
I told him to put his rabbit-which-he-has-yet-to-buy before any future partners. You tell them, Trev, "I'm sorry, but the rabbit comes first." He laughed a lot and then I fell down a step. I was possibly slightly tipsy. He went off, and I was informed he 'bopped' to the music. He is very old. It is very wrong that he bopped. I am still trying to chase the image from my mind.
The whole thing was entirely mortifying and traumatic, and only funny in retrospect. It will take me a long time to recover.But bless his knee-high cotton socks anyway! He is, afterall, Newcastle College's living legend.
kiwiqueen - 8. Jul, 12:58