Another piece of fiction … of course
Florist rings while First of Her Name is shopping with the Mother of the Groom for suitable shoes. Apparently lilies are ‘hors de combat’ whatever that means in terms of foliage and would we accept gladioli? Indicated such decisions are so far above my pay grade even asking me is more ridiculous than asking a two year old to decide its pension choices. Am told by terse sounding woman who reminds me of Margaret Thatcher describing Arthur Scargill without the underlying empathy that a decision is needed in next five minutes or there’ll be nothing on the tables. I ask what the choices are if I decide against the glads and am told there isn’t one. Wish I could channel my inner wife as know she would rise to the occasion like lava out of an erupting volcano. Accept seeming inevitable and brace myself for consequences when this is revealed to First of Her Name on her return.
The exchange goes something like this.
‘Behold, Light if My Existence, you have returned you glorious exemplar of womankind!’
‘What the fuck have you done?’
‘I engaged in a brief exchange of views with the Florist personage.’
‘Tell me you didn’t make some sort of decision?’
‘Odysseus have fewer dilemmas during His Odyssey, Oh Wonder of my Universe.’
‘Not a one in the northern hemisphere I was assured…’
‘She’s stuck you with some moth-eaten gladioli, hasn’t she?’
‘She presented her case with compelling forthrightness.’
‘I will not have my daughter’s wedding looking like a Dame Edna sodding tribute dinner.’
It is at points like this where there are occasional shifts in the celestial axis that indicate the clear existence of a benign and all loving god, viz the intervention of the MOG. ‘Oh I love a good glad. They remind me of teacakes at my nan’s.’
First of her Name is caught in a similar dilemma to mine of earlier. Her ingrained politeness gene kicks in saving me from immediate evisceration. However both First of Her Name and I know that the ritual julienning of my privates is merely postponed. Gladgate will continue to run…