Sunday Surreality
I'm just back from my Sunday visit to the shop for my baccy and paper.
Despite all my threats and implorations, he's still insisting on little gifts.
I got seven lovely choc-chip cup-cakes. I just had a couple and they are all squidgy and fresh.
I also got a padlock. A little mini one for locking luggage.
And two birthday cake candles in the shape of numbers.
He gave me a 9 and a 7.
Does he think I'm 79?
Or 97?
Now he just has to give you 11. Then it'll be 9711 – eau de Cologne. It's getting a bit Freudian I'd think.
9711? Or 4711? Or have I missed a few updates over the decades?
4711. Maybe 9711 is the formula for a stinkbomb.
Perhaps he mistook you for 7 of 9?
I have a [rather unnerving] theory that it may be the beginning of his phone number.
Yes, it definitely sounds like he's after your taut, nubile body GD. It's called 'grooming' I believe. Just make sure you don't drop anything when you're in the shop.
Never look a gift horse etc.
Now you're not being entirely fair GD. Next year you simply turn the 9 upside down and he'll have you bang to rights. Oh and 12 years thereafter (sorry 'bout this – just forward planning), you'll be ever so grateful at the thoughtfulness of your corner shop chappie. (Shan't bother about the final use on your part – ain't no way you'll be blogging in 31 years. Certainly not a hope in hell I'll be reading it!!!
I could always keep them for the grandson Sir Fartzalott. He'll be 7 next year [actually this day next year] and if my maths is up to speed he'll be 9 two years later.
Who says I won't be scribbling in 31 years?
Is he mistaking you for a politician? Scobieville’s Ming perhaps!
Now that the ponytail is gone maybe…
🙂
I think I'm a bit nearer to Gerry Adams actually, especially as he got his hair cut to look like mine. I do wish he'd stop trying to look like me. I don't think he smokes the wild stuff though……