So many of my family and so called friends seem to delight in telling me that I have a smart mouth. I defend myself by telling them that I am famous for my instant repartee and it is only jealousy and that they don’t understand my fast perception and enquiring mind. However I do remember when I was a baby Midshipman, a Commissioned Gunner took great delight telling me in front of my class, that I suffered the fault of putting my mouth in gear before my brain was engaged. Oh well, I’m far too old to change now.
On my way home from the Gym the other day, I called in at a supermarket to buy a newspaper. As I entered I watched an elderly, frail old guy, probably nearly as old as me, he was holding a large bunch of roses as he shuffled slowly to the fast checkout and I stood back to allow him to be served before me. I said to him jokingly “My goodness! You must have done something really bad to have to buy such an expensive bunch!”
Silence – I thought he was going to ignore me but then he mumbled “They’re to go on my wife’s grave”. Somewhat unlike me, I was lost for words, I stuttered an apology of sorts but the cashier had served him and he turned and shuffled away.
To put the icing on the cake, the cashier said, “Bless him, he buys a bunch of flowers for her a couple of times a week”. I quickly paid for my newspaper and nearly ran out of the shop, I couldn’t think of a single piece of instant repartee. There wasn’t a single adjective in my ammunition box. I came out with few expletives that must be deleted once I was alone in my car.
I related this sorry tale to one of my friends later and all he said was “One of these days Jake . . . . . . . . . . . .”and just shook his head. Well perhaps I do have a smart mouth! Mr Old Widower, I am so very full of remorse! My trouble is that I just know that it will not cure my smart mouth, but at least I will admit to having one.
Now I’m really sure you will be pleased to hear that I did get my comeuppance! It was at my gym again where it seems everything happens as far as my blogs go. The other day, as is my wont I arrived as usual at silly o’clock at the gym (sorry Health Club and Fitness Centre) to be told that my annual membership fee was due.
Once I had completed my daily dose of masochism in the gym and then recovered in the spa, I dressed and went out to the cafe bar to meet the young lady who looks after membership accounts.
I sat at a table and she provided me with a pot of tea and biscuits while she left to locate my folder. I picked up a copy of Esquire Men’s Magazine and saw that the front cover was emblazoned “What to wear at a Gay Wedding!” I poured myself a cup of tea and settled back to read.
Before I could become enlightened, the perky little girl/lady (I’m very ancient so they are all sweeties to me) came back with my file. Before she could sit down with my forms, I said “Oh that was quick! I was just about to find out what I should wear to a Gay Wedding” and waved the copy of ‘Esquire’
Without blinking an eye and without even a trace of a smile, she came back with “Never mind, I’m sure you will be able to find something already in your closet”! Well . . . . . Never has my flabber been so gasted – Gosh I bet she considers herself witty and amusing, I don’t like that in a woman, do you?
Once I had recovered from my speechlessness I rather wished that I had been about to read the article on “How to become a Paddle-boarder” if only to see what witty remark she could have made from that. Closet indeed!!!