We had decided that we needed a small round table and a couple of chairs to complete our re-organisation. I had measured the space and thought that the table should be no more than 80cm in diameter so I checked the local Buy, Swap and Sell to see what might be available. Apparently, you can buy furniture though Temu and I found just what we needed from a company in Brisbane. Jamie wasn't happy and said at the price it would be total rubbish; we'd be better to go to a local furniture shop and pay a bit extra.
That phrase, 'pay a bit extra', always bothers me so we were at a stalemate. Jamie took out the big guns and brought Nera into the equation. She was unequivocal. "You don't want a round one at all, you need a small rectangular table with a couple of chairs that will sit against the wall there." She checked the internet and found one that would suffice, rang them up, negotiated a price and convinced them to deliver it for an extra $20.
A nice young couple arrived an hour later with the table and four chairs. It has a glass top and curved chrome legs, the chairs are black and Marilyn is ecstatic. So the re-organisation is complete and the room looks better than we could have hoped.
I've plucked todays's story at random and it's not one of my best.
BLIND DATE July 28, 2023
I didn’t think I was particularly unattractive but I didn’t ever have a girlfriend when I was at school. It didn’t really bother me because at that time we tended to go out as a group of boys and girls together and I didn’t stand out as a misfit. However, when I finally left school, and got a job, I didn’t have a regular group around me to protect me and my lack of a girl-friend started to become glaringly obvious. My friend, Paul, who always had girls lining up to be his special friend, tried to advise me.
“It’s the smell,” he said.
“What smell?” I asked. “I don’t smell.”
“Oh, it’s the smell of fear. You won’t notice it but girls can sense it a mile off. They know that you’re frightened of them and that turns them off.”
Well, I can tell you that I was flabbergasted but had to see that there might be truth in what he said. Girls were a puzzle to me and I was just a little in awe of the sense of mystery that seemed to surround them; they spoke in code, and giggled at the oddest times. I worried that they were making fun of me.
Paul interrupted my reverie and announced that he was going to take me in hand. He had arranged a blind date for me the following Saturday night and, to make sure nothing went wrong, he and his current girlfriend would be there with us. The girl, he promised, would not make fun of me, or snigger, and everything would be fine.
Saturday night came around and I made a special effort to look as good as I could. I borrowed some of Dad’s Brut deodorant and put on a clean shirt. My sneakers were a bit scruffy, I noticed, but that couldn’t be helped; I would just need to keep them out of sight.
We were to meet at the coffee shop in town and then move on to a movie which was the latest Burt Lancaster thriller. My mind flirted with the possibilities of being in a darkened movie theatre with an attractive young woman but Paul had warned me not to expect too much too soon. “Be cool, man!” he said. I thought that sounded like something he might have heard on a TV show from the Sixties but decided not to say anything; he was only trying to help.
The girls were waiting for us. Paul’s regular girl-friend looked very nice but I couldn’t take my eyes off the young woman who stood shyly beside her. My first impression was of dark hair in a ponytail, and the current girls’ uniform of skirt with lots of petticoats, short sleeved top and tiny cardigan. She was very pretty and it took me a moment to realise that I knew her. Yes, it was her and I had thought I would never see her again.
I took an involuntary step backwards as my mind reeled with memories: of a holiday at Devonport with my family when I was about 12 years old, and the tent we had pitched beside the beach. I recalled the carnival which had been set up just along from us and how it was like a magnet for all the children in the campsite. Even though it only opened in the evenings, all the kids spent their days wandering among the rides and carnival tents, waiting for the hours to pass until the lights were switched on and the exciting music started to play.
Among the crowd of children on the beach that summer was one girl of about my age. Her family, I think, were in a tent further along the beach and she always walked around with a couple of other children, younger than her. I assumed it was her job to look after them.
We spoke only once when I shyly went up to her and asked her some inane question. “ Where are you from?” maybe. I’m sorry to say that she looked at me as if I were a worm and then ignored me. My twelve-year old self esteem was bruised that day and I suspect it never quite recovered. I saw her around the beach again, of course, but was never brave enough to talk to her again. The holiday came to an end eventually and I returned home with my family, nursing memories which have never left me.
I realised that this vision from my past was talking to me and I struggled to make sense of the words.
“Hi, have we met before? You look familiar.”
Immediately, all my old insecurities flooded back and, bizarrely, all I could think about was whether she could smell how frightened I was. I don’t know what I said in reply but I hope it wasn’t too stupid. However, against all the odds, things turned out for the best and we celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary next month.
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