Not Invited! Mad old Hags and Fashion Statements.

A very fierce woman rang here last night, in the middle of my serendipity half hour. She demanded to speak to the Sainted One. He was out, I politely offered to pass a message, “Who are you?” the voice barked.

“More to the point who are you? I replied in my customary mild tone for which I am celebrated. She supplied her name which I will not mention here, actually it is rather a silly name ,I have encountered said woman occasionally over the last twenty years , my impression of her is unwavering . “I am speaking to Veronica,” she declared unpleasantly. “There is nobody called Veronica here,” I said unhelpfully. “You see, “I went on vaguely,  “I don’t mind Virginia, or Vera but I once knew a rather nasty Veronica.”

After a much of the same, I reminded the caller that I was called Vanessa. “Ah yes Veronica she yelled furiously and then stated her business, as if delivering a memo to a stupid secretary, which was, to ask the SO to give her a lift to a gathering two hours from London to which the SO and moi had both been asked. On learning that I was the appointed driver, she informed me very coldly that I was not invited . The gathering was very exclusive, she explained severely, and I did not have the correct credentials and so she and the SO would travel together, or maybe I could drive them both, and have lunch alone in the local pub while they celebrated in the big house? The SO, I conclude is not complicit in this , and on this occasion blameless of any dark conspiracy. This has all been very awkward as I am very devoted to the person for whom the surprise party is to be held. I am sorting this out, there is great potential here…. because I cannot resist a good story, and will make much of it, and will write to “Dear Mary” on the Spectator.  Perhaps silly name woman of advancing years is desperate, and just wants to be alone with the SO for four hours…..this might be good therapy for him actually, like putting a cat in a sack of old dogs (or bitches), if you follow my drift. Am discussing this with my best friend, who has the driest wickedest and funniest sense of humour I know. Be warned, there are one or two of these desperate old women out there, they must be mad actually …… don’t they realize that you don’t get what you see , the real life is another story and must be respected by unwise outsiders.  Veronica is not to be trifled with. “Terra Incognita”

z

A very dear friend came to stay for Halloween and raised our street cred in the road by her “off the wall” dress sense, her little boy is much the same,  he wore an orange the wig for lunch, I don’t know where he got the yellow cat suit. Once I nearly went to a fancy dress party (the theme was musical) dressed as Tina Turner , I practised on the SO who turned very vitriolic and said he would have nothing to do with me if I went like that… I led him on until the last moment, the atmosphere becoming nuclear. Upon arrival separately, he did not recognize me dressed as Tosca, no prizes for guessing his own choice of character… Don Giovanni of course. During the evening, I noted at least twenty sad ladies dressed as Tina Turner who all wished they were dead.

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