20 January 2007


I like living in Greece more than you. #2

I meant to take this down to revise in more pretentious fashion because, in my pretentious fashion, I had fancifully thought it contained germs of a wider story. Perhaps it does, but I'm not the writer to do it justice.

Instead, let me just tighten and let the incident tell itself.

To the airport to see the almond-eyed one off. Next up in the queue, Exhibit A family: be-joweled father, all red-faced grumbles, even more shapeless mum, and mid-20s faun daughter who seems to be eyeing the entrance in tell-tale fashion.

The queue moves to check-out and, as it threatens to disappear into Customs, Faun tells her folks to "go ahead".

Suddenly, thru the sliding door struts designer-stubbled adonis. Daughter breaks ranks to run to his arms where she stands immobile and enfolded.

Mum goes "Oh my gawd"

Dad emits elongated F-oath. "How'n bleeding hell he  get here?

Mum: Leave off, Stan, I'll handle this. Come on, El', it's done wiv, girl. Just *leave* it, luv."

'El' and her Greek stud stand immobile.

Dad goes over ("Stan - i'm telling yer, leave it!") and delivers unwisely sharp jab to the Greek's shoulder ("That's enough. Whyn't you just get the message and move on.")

Doe-eyed daughter looks up: "Dad, I'm telling you ...."

Her man - fit and muscular bugger - opens one sleepy brown eye and the look needs no translation.

"Except that I have this woman in my arms.

Except that you are - pause for incredulity effect - 'father'

You, mister, would be looking at a very different day"

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