Monday, March 03, 2008

Another week and this one a little more significant as I had another birthday.

Yay.

Waves wise I was gifted with delightful weather and gutless crap, but managed to get wet, keeping the hounds at bay for another week.

As is the case with birthdays, though, I had the odd visitor to help me celebrate.

My mate Mo dropped by, and over a coffee we were having a bit of a laugh, me griping and sounding very much like my Dad as I moaned about the kids need to low ride... the belt of their jeans sitting two thirds of the way down their bum crack. I was being laughed down, the conversation lurched into our fashion disasters, with Mo confessing to glitter and eye makeup during his "Sly and the Family Stone' period. Mo's big, and black, and the mental picture had me packing up until he fixed me with a bemused glance and said...

"The dressing gown... that's all I'll say."

"Oh"

Nearly twenty years ago Sue and I had a very rough patch, and in that twilight zone before I actually moved out for a bit of a break, we were tolerating each other, but I was still 'around'.

On the day in question she'd come home and said she'd bumped into an old boyfriend, an actor, who she hadn't seen for ages, and was it cool by me if she had a catch up dinner with him.

No problem says I... I quiet night at home, watch a vid, all that.

So off goes Sue, I see the vid, it's winter, I'll hop into bed and read a book. Can't be bothered with that, start reading a surf mag, then pick up one of Sue's Women's Weekly's just because it's there. By this time it's a bit chilly so I've popped on Sue's Japanese print dressing gown as I don't have one and what the heck I'm by myself and yikes that some fart coming on so I let her rip and boy is it a paint peeler when I hear the door open and Sue saying..

"Come on in and meet Mick, he'd love to say hello'

and I'm going "No, no, noooooo ' inside and in walks this guy I've never met, who steps into the bedroom with me in an effing Kimono for Gods sake, and reading a Womens Weekly, and smelling like the Port-a-loo at a Hells Angels Convention.

We shook hands, he smiled weakly and backed out, right out... the door, and the house.

Never seen him again.

I was back with Sue six months later and Joey turned up about 10 months after that.

God I'm a smooth bastard.




12 comments:

nm said...

Hee!!!

I'll try to stop giggling long enough to wish you a happy birthday.....

warren p said...

that is one way of getting rid of any competition.
happy birthday mick

seamouse said...

Happy belated Birthday mate.

ras said...

That's the funniest story I've read inna while Mick. Happy Birthday too. Should be getting the movie this week I hope. cheers.

Daniel said...

Classic story & happy birthday!

clayfin said...

I just don't know what to say. Except Happy Birthday.

tres_arboles said...

With old BF: you couldn't have planned it any better. :-)

And what is it with the "low pants" thing? How many times have I seen some halfwit hiphop wannabe waddling across the street holding onto his pants as the light turns?

Thanks for the laughs.

David

Gaz said...

Yer as smooth as a banana peel on butter man! Happy birthday Mick!

Beach Bum said...

Very, very funny - farting and relationships - you've inspired a post mate.

Alan_M said...

Happy Birthday! I'll have to remember not to pull your finger should we ever meet in person....

Burnsie said...

That's a classic mate!

Jason said...

That's how you know you've found that special someone. Happy b-day, mate!