Sunday, September 18, 2005

9/18/05

1:34 p.m. I'd like a glass of humility with just a splash of embarrassment, please. On the rocks. And hold the pride.

Thanks.

I went on a date yesterday with a certain light-haired man. We decided to browse around the bookstore near my house and then take a leisurely stroll along Main Street. Nice.

I decide to wear my favorite pair of jeans, a black belt, a tight black t-shirt and these fantastic black leather boot-shoes with a rather formidable heel that I just got. I know I don't usually wear heels since I'm notoriously clumsy, but...DAMN, they look good! Watch OUT, Wisconsin, cuz Polly is on the prowl! Um... Not really on the prowl, I guess, since I'm on a date and prowling while dating is kind of rude.

Anyway, light-haired man and I have a cup of tea at a cozy little table and things are going pretty well. He is charming and funny and I am patting myself on the back for my witty banter and intelligent commentary on subjects of which I am somewhat educated...mostly death, candy, spying on people, and little morsels of useless trivia such as, "Did you know that there is a type of coffee that is super expensive because the beans have to be shat out by a bat before it is edible for humans?" That kind of thing.

Light-haired man and I leave the book store a few minutes later and decide to take a walk. But then something surprising happens. I'm not quite sure how it all went down, but as I was stepping up onto the sidewalk, I must have caught my fabulous heel on the concrete curb because the next thing I know, I'm on my back. On a very hard sidewalk. With a dully-aching knee and a very concerned light-haired man staring down at me. I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Did you see how I rolled into that? That was BEAUTiful! I should be a stunt woman!" I am hoping to convince him. He looks dubious as I hug my bruised knee.

Several people across the street are asking if I need help. I want to muzzle them and throw them in the lake as punishment for their neighborly concern. Light-haired man tells them I'm fine and I sit up. He walks me home with a hand around my waist to support my bad knee. As we walk I try to convince him how gracefully I splattered myself on the sidewalk. "Uh huh," he says indulgently. He is concerned about my knee and offers to carry me.

Hmm... I think it would be in my best interest to milk this injured damsel thing a bit.

10 comments:

Kitty said...

Arm around your waist? Offers to carry you? Gee, Polly, even your bad luck turns golden.

Btw, were you referring to Kopi Luwak coffee?

Anonymous said...

Bengals 37, Vikings 8. What happened to your team?

PollyME said...

I'm not speaking to the Vikings anymore since they got rid of Randy Moss.

PollyME said...

I see that the Browns finally won a game...

Nancy French said...

Hummm.... That is the weirdest coffee thing I've ever heard. And strangely, I'd love to try some...

Anonymous said...

Browns will play the Vikings this year. They call it the toilet-bowl.

PollyME said...

hehe! Toilet bowl...

Anonymous said...

Smooth, Polly, real smooth.

You should have let him carry you home. Very romantic.

Mike Weasel said...

Oh sure, we weasels start pooping out coffee beans and now suddenly all the other animals want to horn in on the action. Bloody posers.

Cap'n Bob said...

What happened to old fashioned manners? I'd have carried you home piggyback style. And if you asked me nicely enough, I might have put you down.