I’ve been there several times. It’s what comes of being a
bit different and you get used to it. And it brought to mind an insignificant but mildly amusing
memory.
It was in a city centre nightclub back in the days when I
was younger than Sherlock Holmes. The DJ was playing lots of Bee Gees tracks that night. Marie Harrison was young, blonde and wearing a cheesecloth dress. She paid
me a lot of attention all evening, and then disappeared.
The following day I pieced together what little she had told
me about herself and set about tracking her down. I gate-crashed her next engagement
and waited for her to notice me. Eventually she did, and then she approached me
with peevish eyes and said ‘What the hell are you doing here? Would you like to come and meet my husband?’
Whoops.
It’s interesting to note that it was through that little
adventure that I met the woman I was subsequently to marry. Doesn’t life weave
interesting patterns? And the only interesting thing I subsequently discovered
about Marie Harrison’s husband was that he liked his rice pudding served cold.
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