When I launched the FOG HORN my charter was to provide relevant and accurate material of value to individuals engaged in the front lines of defense. So, I talk about a lot of things relevant to the GWOT, and those that prosecute it. I take this very seriously and I conduct my effort professionally.
I also recognize that laughter is food for the soul, and I said that from time-to-time I would share my laughter with you; this is one of those occasions.
Today was an absolutely glorious day here at the bat cave so I hopped on my bike and knocked out 33 kilometers – 16 of which were against a 20 M.P.H. breeze; needless to say I was stoked.
After a nice workout, like today’s, I usually stop at a local Boulangerie – they have a nice patio area with umbrellas, and it’s a good spot to chill and take in some of the local eye candy. Today was no different.
As I sat at my table, I heard a woman, speaking in a loud tone; sounding rather distressed. I turned and looked to see what was wrong; I was pleasantly surprised to see that she was put together like the proverbial brick lavatory. As I approached to see if I could render assistance, I saw the iPhone through her long flowing hair so I stepped back and returned to my table, which was across from hers.
I felt her mood presented an opportunity for me to console her, after concluding her conversation, so I sat and listened as she spoke. It soon became apparent she was not intellectually gifted, as she never used a complete sentence during 30 minutes of conversation. Although her voice lacked any hint of an accent, it was apparent that the constructs of a complete sentences eluded her – noun, verb, prepositions and conjunctions. Merde, if only Barry Eckhouse could here this gal!
Somewhat ironical is the fact that she was discussing professionalism with the other party. Emphatically, she insisted that she knew more about professionalism than the second party to the conversation.
Geez, I shouldn’t be critical I thought – remembering the brick lavatory element of her total personality. As I turned to make contact with her, she stands, drops her empty coffee cup, and in a burst of superb speed and form brings her heels together with stilettos pointed at a perfect 45° angle dropping into a deep squat, as on cue with the Commodores’ “Brick House.”
It transported me back to my days in military service, and a place in Honolulu called the Stop Light where Dee Dee (stage name) performed the same maneuver, launching a ping-pong ball from her accoutrements and hitting a beer pitcher several feet away.
Susan M Andersen, Professor at NYU’s Psychology Department and purveyor of “subliminal transference”, would find it intriguing that I was captivated by the event. But then again, she likely feels that men are aroused by women standing with feet shoulder width apart rocking from side-to-side — in reality, Susan, all men know it’s not a sexual thing but rather a practical matter of airing yourselves out.
Well, I did miss the opportunity to commune with the lady; however, les garçon informed me that she is a regular customer, so Jusqu’à ce que la prochaine fois que ma poupée !