'Please refrain from touching the exhibits, Please refrain from touching the exhibits, Please refrain from touching the exhibits' …
So sounded the increasingly angry-sounding voice mechanism as a middle aged man, bored with life, prodded the explosive looking mechanism at the Imperial war museum.
His wife, outside the blocked of area, was enigmatically motioning for him to follow, pertaining that we’re-going-now-and-we-don’t-care-about-your-middle age-crisis with her eyes.
The purpose of my visit was a Holocaust conference, at which numerous la-di-da type characters would be present, me being the exception of course. I mentioned to the security guard all hmph-like that I - 'ynow am attending the..ahem conference' … he saw straight through my act and instead of addressing me as guvnor or the gentleman he called me his mate and pointed a waning finger somewhere north. After i had finished careering around the 1st floor like a Iranian nuclear test missile, I bumped into a cardboard guy waving with a funny short moustache and a quiff and thought, ah, this must be it.
Gently sidling in through the doorway I nearly managed to avoid any late-attention. Unfortunately, i had managed to involuntarily make the acquaintance of an idiot…who bumbled his way in tripping over the samsung YH1000 projector wire thereby cutting off Mr Wiesel’s nephew mid-sermon and seriously irritating a number of attendees who grinned and ok'd in much feigned amusement.
The purpose of my visit was a Holocaust conference, at which numerous la-di-da type characters would be present, me being the exception of course. I mentioned to the security guard all hmph-like that I - 'ynow am attending the..ahem conference' … he saw straight through my act and instead of addressing me as guvnor or the gentleman he called me his mate and pointed a waning finger somewhere north. After i had finished careering around the 1st floor like a Iranian nuclear test missile, I bumped into a cardboard guy waving with a funny short moustache and a quiff and thought, ah, this must be it.
Gently sidling in through the doorway I nearly managed to avoid any late-attention. Unfortunately, i had managed to involuntarily make the acquaintance of an idiot…who bumbled his way in tripping over the samsung YH1000 projector wire thereby cutting off Mr Wiesel’s nephew mid-sermon and seriously irritating a number of attendees who grinned and ok'd in much feigned amusement.
After the presentation was over, it was decided that people should make their way to the coffee and tea where they should ooh and ahh at each other, which they did, and quiet professionally. I decided to ooh with an author of supposed famed repute, a veteran ahher by all accounts, chap named Bill Knight.
I looked at his Tag; it said 'Bill Knight'. He looked at mine, and kept on looking. You see, although i was, on the list, it seemed i wasn't poloi enough to have my own tag. So I scrawled one meself.
Knight kept staring languidly, then gave up and said 'so… Aurom'.
I am a fairy liquid, I didn't say.
'Yes'.
'What..who..err. What are you?'
I thought about the answer for a bit, long enough for him to turn and stare at the 'Security' sign at the end of the room.
'I'm a student, a student' I hurried.
‘Aha,aha’ the paranoiac story plotter inside him wasn't really convinced, so I gave him a cookie and a minstrel to calm him. We spoke at length about this and that and when he was satisfied i was no Hezbolla agent he let me go play.
A tall woman, with a short no-messing hairdo, and a definitely-messing-around-because-my-husband-is-oblivious top, got up and spoke about shoes. I like my shoes, so I was quite interested. However, the young man beside me was the short, bald, I’m an intellectual and EVERYONE must know me type and he salivated at every opportunity to address everyone about himself.
I looked at his Tag; it said 'Bill Knight'. He looked at mine, and kept on looking. You see, although i was, on the list, it seemed i wasn't poloi enough to have my own tag. So I scrawled one meself.
Knight kept staring languidly, then gave up and said 'so… Aurom'.
I am a fairy liquid, I didn't say.
'Yes'.
'What..who..err. What are you?'
I thought about the answer for a bit, long enough for him to turn and stare at the 'Security' sign at the end of the room.
'I'm a student, a student' I hurried.
‘Aha,aha’ the paranoiac story plotter inside him wasn't really convinced, so I gave him a cookie and a minstrel to calm him. We spoke at length about this and that and when he was satisfied i was no Hezbolla agent he let me go play.
A tall woman, with a short no-messing hairdo, and a definitely-messing-around-because-my-husband-is-oblivious top, got up and spoke about shoes. I like my shoes, so I was quite interested. However, the young man beside me was the short, bald, I’m an intellectual and EVERYONE must know me type and he salivated at every opportunity to address everyone about himself.
The woman did not like anyone else talking. So she told him that first of all he may be right but he was wrong, and didn't really get the second-of-all as there didn't seem to be any. So he looked elsewhere for comfort. His teacup.
I saw him continue to mount sugar into his teacup until it resembled Mount Harari, there was no stopping the sugar-capped PG tip, but the young man, now fully immersed in researching his next academic advert, did not see the tip become Vesuvius. I did, but for the sake of light entertainment, I kept shtum.
‘Woowoowo’ I bowowed like a war mongering Indian just in time before Vesuvius became Pompei. Sadly the shock was too much for the young man, and PG Pompei erupted.
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