Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Bond Girl

Most females will realise this fact. As you get older you become invisible. However, there are moments when you get the odd ego feed which is worthy of recording for musing upon when old and grey.

Recently we had a young sales guy come into work. When he first arrived to the office my boss was not yet in and so he chatted away to me until I had to excuse myself to get to work.

A few days later he was in again. He then asked me if I had a child and I said yes, chatted about him for a while.

Then he asked if I was married. Ah, I then realised he was fishing. Told him I was married and had been for eighteen years.

Matter closed.

Today he came in again for a meeting with my boss. Whilst waiting for the boss to arrive I made coffee.

Out of the blue he said;

"Have you ever done modelling?".

I thought to myself, hmmmm, interesting pick up line for someone who is married with a child.

"No, no modelling", I replied.

"You know, there was a girl who looked like you in a Bond movie with Pierce Brosnan. His first one. Just like you, I think she was a Russian girl", he went on.

"Well, there you go. I should have sent in my resume at the time", I replied.

"You would make a great Bond girl", he went on.

"I'll keep that thought in mind should a job come up for a bookkeeping spy", I told him.

"And you make great coffee", he added.

"There you go. Budgeting, coffee making and saving my country at the same time. Who else could do that?" I answered.

He was keen to continue the conversation, but I made my way back into the office.

Had to make a call to Q.

See what my next assignment was.

Which was to immediately see which Bond Girl he was talking about.

Print Friendly and PDF

Thursday, May 07, 2009

He Hesitated

On Sunday my husband went to a Jazz Festival at which he was playing at a couple of gigs.

When he came home he gave me the run down on who, what, when and where.

His ex girlfriend was there with her partner. She is a singer and was doing a few jobs there as well. Girlfriend is a silly word to use on her as she is 53 and menopausal. Yes, yes, that was meant to sound bitchy.

He catches up with her maybe twice a year. Get all the low down on what she has been doing. She has a rather messy life and therefore quite interesting.

Fortunately, I am essentially not a jealous person as such. So I don't have an issue with him seeing her. Although, I do think it unlikely that my husband would take kindly to me catching up with the old odd boyfriend twice a year.

Anyway, I asked how she was and he went on about how fantastic she looked. Her hair looked great, make up was nice, she did not look her age and was dressed in nice clothes. I think I said something like "how nice" in response to his enthusiasm.

Then, later on he said more about how nice she looked and it was at that point I felt a bit put out.

"So, how old does she look exactly? I mean, does she look younger than me?" I asked him.

Do you know what happened then?

He hesitated.

Yes, he fucking well hesitated before he said "Oh, well, not really, you know, I don't know, I suppose so".

I am not sure which part of his response pissed me off the most. The hesitation or his answer. Especially because I know she is a scrawny, bleached blonde (sorry decent blonde's), tired old MOLE. And, she looks older than me. Old tart.

I cannot remember my response in detail but it went something along the lines of;

"You had to hesitate? You hesitated before answering that question? And then you answered it like that?"

Then I said;

"Imagine if you asked me if my ex boyfriend was s good in bed as you were and I HESITATED before saying "um, er, well, yeah I suppose so".

Then he said something about not realising that I had asked a loaded question.

I said it wasn't loaded until he HESITATED.

He had to make me lots of cups of tea that night.

Without hesitation!

Print Friendly and PDF

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The Dentist

When I was about sixteen I had to make an appointment to see a dentist. In those days I had no particular affinity with any dentist. They were all bad news as far as I was concerned.

The dentist I went to see was called David. It was about 1979, the last years of moustached men. This dentist was a thick set, hairy guy with his shirt undone enough to expose his black, hairy chest. He was moustached and all in all a very manly looking guy of the time.

Not that I cared. As far as I was concerned, all dentists were just there to take money and administer pain - in reverse order.

I went straight after school so had my uniform on and sat on the chair. This was the first time I had been to this dentist.

He introduced himself and as he was leaning across to examine my teeth, he chatted to me. He asked how old I was, what did I want to do when I left school, did my parents work, did I have a boyfriend etc.. Bit hard to answer with his fingers and dental implements in my open mouth.

He shirt was short sleeved and now and then his forearm would brush against my bare arm, the hair all tickly. He had latex gloves on and I could see the whorls of hair under the tight stretch of their thin, rubbery surface. I found his whole presence a bit invasive and at one point his arm rested lightly on my breasts.

But you know, when you are sixteen you are just not sure about anything. So I just waited for the appointment to be over and done with.

He found that I needed to have a filling which was not a surprise to me since I went there with a toothache.

The appointment was drawing to a close when he leaned over to me, his face close to mine. He then brought up his hand to my face and with his thumb he rubbed it along my bottom lip in the most inappropriate manner. Looking back, it was a very sexually provocative movement. He was so close to me that I could smell the gloves and also his aftershave.

As he caressed my bottom lip in this very intimate manner he said, almost to himself, "you have the most incredible bottom lip".

Fear and discomfort enveloped me and I kind of wriggled out of the seat. He followed me to the receptionist's desk and asked the girl to make an appointment for me to have to tooth filled.

"Make it the last session for the day," he told her. I had enough sense in me to hear alarm bells ringing at this request of his. He handed me the card and said something about looking forward to seeing me.

When I got home, the next day I rang and cancelled the appointment. No way I was going there.

Anyway, I thought nothing of it after that until shortly after, one day after school, the phone at home rang.

I answered it and it was Dave the dentist. I could not believe it. Ringing me at my home.

He asked me why I had cancelled on him and I said my mum wanted me to go to her dentist. Then he expressed his disappointment. I hung up on him.

Now, although at the time it was creepy, it was also a bit of a thrill as well. It must have been, because it is as clear in my mind as if it happened yesterday.

Now and then, many years ago, I used to wonder what would have happened had I gone to that "last appointment for the day".

Visits to the dentist have never been quite as exciting since.

Print Friendly and PDF