Lo, she is a terrible Goddess had an appointment at the hairdressers so I took the opportunity to pop into The Twisted Gusset for my usual half a lager with a sherry chaser.
I was greeted by Irene.
“Oh, she’s at the hairdressers.”
“They’re very good you know. I had some highlights done there just the other day” and started pouting to show me her upper lip.
“Lovely” I said rather flirtatiously “Very sexy.”
(Actually, flirting with Irene is quite tricky because her eyes move independently of each other and I’m never sure which one to aim at. The time she was complaining about the state of the nettles along the cliff top footpath and she attempted rolling her eyes in disgust, I thought she was having a fit.)
“They suggested plucking but I said, oh I’m too old for all that, all that fuss and bother …. and the mess!”
I bravely suggested that she checked the batteries in her hearing aids but she didn’t hear me.
“What’s Lo having done?”
“Not a clue. I’m hoping to make the right noises when she gets back though. ‘Very nice dear’, or ‘That’s better’, or ’As lovely as ever’ …. something complementary anyway. I’ve learnt not to ask ‘How much did that cost then?’ and I certainly want to forget when I said ‘Oh they were closed then’. I remember the time … now was it 2011 or earlier? I’m not sure … anyway I do recall it was October …. or it might have been April – when was that debacle over Mrs Crotchly cutting her hedge before Easter?”
I glanced up and Irene had disappeared which was odd.
I downed my sherry in one, with some sense of pride, and wandered home to wait patiently for the arrival of the TG.
Coda – Whatever I said on her return, was wrong. I must record our conversations for future reference and also see if I can save money if I buy Arnica in industrial quantities.