In London, my friend purchased a nice umbrella with a wooden handle and a plaid design on the top. He paid a pretty penny (or shilling, in this case) but he enjoy that umbrella like no other. During our stay in London he carried it around with him ala Charlie Chaplin, spinning it around, propping himself on it like a cane, and generally grinning from ear to ear.
Apparently he likes umbrellas.
Later, when we wandered into the wax museum there I commented on his apparel:
"You sort of look.. hmm.. waxy"
"Gee Thanks," he said and smiled, and propped himself on his cane umbrella in a corner by the stairs.
"More smile," I said.
He grinned.
I shook my head no, "A little less." I
He smirked, slightly.
"Yes yes.. good." I wandered over to the other side of the hallway and sat down, eating my apple. I watched people come through from the entrance and down the sloping hallway. He was situated away from any of the other wax statues, so he drew attention from almost everyone.
"Look at this honey"
"Who is it?"
"Hmm.. There is no plaque."
He'd sometimes smirk a little more.. or roll his eyes like a mad cow.. or just blink at them. At first they didn't always notice it. They were checking out his wax umbrella.
Eventually, though, even the slow ones picked up on something not being quite right.
They'd jump... Just slightly. They'd stagger backwards. They'd bounce on the balls of their feet.
"Ohh!" said one lady, softly and almost under her breath.
They'd bring their hand to their chest as if a sneeze were coming.
Then, as if a cat who wandered into water sprinkler territory, they'd shake off that bad feeling that they'd been had. They'd chuckle or nod their head as if to say "ahh, now I get it".
Then they'd walk away.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 License.
the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil
