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Dear Vapo241,
Your profile is a quick kick in the pants funny and smart, just the way I like it. And you sound like one of the few who hasn't aborted her mind for what at best could be called compensation, and at worst a waste of one's brains over living her life tucked under an ever larger and larger financial security blanket. No, as you write, you anticipate what your reader might think as the syllables are just beginning to crawl their way up his throat. That is part of what makes you, to my eye, playful and fun. So few are. Really. Now, since I saw your profile last night, I've been pondering telling you about this, and I'm still doubting my judgment. Ne'etheless, as Hector says to his eager battle-bound brethren when he turns on his heel and decides, against his better reason to wage war against the Greeks on behalf of his lazy brother for Helen, your rather cryptic line about "cuddling in black cabs," and even more, your vow to "never, ever make [me] wait outside the dressing rooms at Anne Taylor" prompts me to go on. The last time I was at Anne Taylor, and accompanied a woman into one of the changing rooms with a heap of dresses, afterward the manager came over to me and told me I was not permitted to be where I had been and politely escorted me out of the general changing area. With a healthy and cheerful glow adding good color to my face, I simply replied, both measured and polite, that I was helping zip up the back of said lady's dress, which, in a manner of speaking, I had, too. "Yes," she said, "but you're not allowed in there." It is at such moments as these that one's so-called breeding, education, and poise come to the fore, and are at one's most delicious & exquisite service. "Cheeky" enough for ya?
Egbert
# 140
