Saturday, March 03, 2007

Let Her Eat Cake

I was enjoying controlling the Sky TV remote, last night, on my own. Nando was in Italy and M1 was out, which is where I prefer him. At 9PM, I decided to watch the Hugh Grant film, "American Dreamz," which was premiering on Sky. About half an hour later, I heard the dreaded sound of M1's key in the front door. I could feel my body tensing in anticipation of the uncultured, lanky young man, hair covered in styling wax, slithering into my environment. Then I heard another voice, through the door. This one female. That would be slither boy's sexy, exotic girlfriend, the Exotic Flower. As usual, she was turning up for another weekend hanging around our house. Originally, she had been the one compensation for putting up with intellectually challenged M1, a generation my junior. Lately, however, things have been frosty between myself and the half Seychellian, half Spanish beauty. So the compensating factor has lost its effect.
The Flower hasn't been speaking to me much, since our argument a couple of weeks ago. She's also vindictively stopped giving me her cast off gossip magazines. I've been happy to not have seen much of her, lately. In they walked and the Flower broke the ice first. "Hello," she said. This time there was no confusion. She wasn't speaking to Nando, because he wasn't here. I responded warmly, greeting her by name. When she came in the lounge, she asked what I was watching. I informed her and she grew as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. A kid that lives in a household that celebrates Christmas, that is. "I've wanted to see that," she said, in that lovely, girlish voice that usually sounds like fairy song to my ears; lovely and sweet. Well, that's how it sounds when I am not cross with her. "How long has it been on?"
I looked at the time display on the VCR, under the television. "Thirty-three minutes," I advised. She asked me what had happened so far. I filled her in. I was pleased that she was excited to watch the film, because she would veto any application by M1 to change the channel. "Have you done anything to your hair?" I asked. Nando hates when I ask her about her hair. He claims it sounds gay. What Nando fails to realize is that women love it when you notice what they do with their hair. Maybe that's why he spends his nights on the settee, with no date. It's become second nature to me to notice a woman's hair. Anyway, Nando's not here.
"It's just been rained on, that's all," she said, modestly.
"Well, it looks lovely," I volunteered.
"When it gets wet, it forms ringlets," she explained, forgetting that she's told me that before.
"A lot of women go to great lengths to get their hair to look like that," I said. "Have you heard about Nando's dad?" She told me that M1 had told her, but that Nando had said nothing to her, so she decided not to say anything to him about it, unless he brought it up. She'll have a long wait, because Nando doesn't like her. Chef Anthony had given me a whole plate of cake to bring home. Half of it was a coffee flavored cake I like, but the other half was some berry flavored version that I don't much care for. I offered the Flower some cake. She declined, saying she had just finished a big meal.
We watched the rest of the film, which is a spoof of reality TV shows, like "American Idol." I didn't enjoy it. I think it is the worst Hugh Grant film I have ever seen. Even the Flower said she was glad she hadn't bought it on DVD, which she'd recently considered doing. With the film over, the Flower started whining to M1 that she was hungry. He wasn't pleased. He's not been working steadily, lately, and struggles to feed himself and her. I reminded her of my cake offer. She asked what kind it was, so I knew she was interested. I did my best selling job and she agreed to try a piece. I grabbed a piece of the coffee flavored cake that I prefer and we both settled back in the lounge with our baked treats.
The crucial question was, "would she like it?" If she did, I might be able to unload much of the cake on her, this weekend. I watched her eating it tentatively. What would be the verdict? She liked it! It seemed that relations were on the mend between me and the Flower. They way to the Flower's heart seems to be through her stomach. Let her eat cake!

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Blogger © Karelian Blonde said...

I think the flower is just worried about gaining weight :)

1:16 AM  
Blogger JosephintheBracknell said...

That wouldn't surprise me, as she's about as plump as a woman can get, without yet being fat. She wears it well, though. I wonder how much she weighs?

4:06 AM  

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