"Eeee, are ye alreet, pet?"
I am lying flat on my back on a sheet of ice and snow, an old woman of about ninety-thousand is peering down at me with concern. She leapt about a hundred yards with the grace of a gazelle and is now offering to help. Brilliant.
Yes, I think to myself. I am fine. Why would you ask? It’s very comfortable down here. I just fancied a little lie down.
It is 8.40 in the morning.
“It’s OK.” I inform her as I begin moving upright again.
Fortunately she moves on before she sees me perform the ‘Spastic Duck’ – an odd move performed when attempting to stand up again on a sheet of ice whilst your feet splay away from you before you can gain any sensible purchase and you find yourself briefly dancing on the spot like Donald fucking Duck.
She’s nowhere to be seen by the time I right myself. Amazing.
Sadly the surprisingly attractive woman who got on my bus (most people who use public transport in my neck of the woods have weird teeth and eyes that point in different directions) and sat opposite me for my journey is still in witness distance.
I resolve to regain some dignity and make it the rest of the way to my office upright so as to massively impress this creature with my ‘walking like a normal person’ abilities.
And promptly perform the ‘Idiot Crab’.
This is mastered by arranging to have your feet slip into the air in front of you and to begin falling backwards. The trick is to then put your arms back to break your fall and briefly scuttle on the palms of your hands and heels of your feet whilst facing the sky.
I pull it off perfectly.
I arrive at the office to discover that almost everyone in the building has had to stay at home because of the fucking snow the pussies.
This will be an excellent day, I think.
Yes, I think to myself. I am fine. Why would you ask? It’s very comfortable down here. I just fancied a little lie down.
It is 8.40 in the morning.
“It’s OK.” I inform her as I begin moving upright again.
Fortunately she moves on before she sees me perform the ‘Spastic Duck’ – an odd move performed when attempting to stand up again on a sheet of ice whilst your feet splay away from you before you can gain any sensible purchase and you find yourself briefly dancing on the spot like Donald fucking Duck.
She’s nowhere to be seen by the time I right myself. Amazing.
Sadly the surprisingly attractive woman who got on my bus (most people who use public transport in my neck of the woods have weird teeth and eyes that point in different directions) and sat opposite me for my journey is still in witness distance.
I resolve to regain some dignity and make it the rest of the way to my office upright so as to massively impress this creature with my ‘walking like a normal person’ abilities.
And promptly perform the ‘Idiot Crab’.
This is mastered by arranging to have your feet slip into the air in front of you and to begin falling backwards. The trick is to then put your arms back to break your fall and briefly scuttle on the palms of your hands and heels of your feet whilst facing the sky.
I pull it off perfectly.
I arrive at the office to discover that almost everyone in the building has had to stay at home because of the fucking snow the pussies.
This will be an excellent day, I think.
13 Comments:
I still love you more and more.
That is all.
...whilst I am liking you a lot, in a consistent sort of way.
'surpringly attractive woman...' - she was probably tremendously near-sighted, and saw you only as a blurry improbable breakdancer.
Ah... the spastic duck and the idiot crab- I know them well but had no idea what they were called! I will attempt not to perform either when i leave the house later..
Aw! She was probably impressed by your New Man ability to show your vulnerable side...
This thread useless without video ...
A: .... well.
S: Ok. And I hope you're right.
M: They do have names. Now. And good luck.
PB: I kind of doubt that. But thanks.
D: I'm sure you can imagine.
So there you go!
I do that in the middle of summer after copious vodkas.
Just become a pisshead and the ice will hold no fears.
Trust me I'm from Oldham.
...and I never get stuck with ninety thousand year olds!...well...how could you? You'd never know whether you were fucking them or not!!!
FD: New levels of incoherence. Congrats.
those 90 thousands are bloody fast ...and upright, so unfair.
The f'ing ice is treacherous. Imagine the increased challenge of walking a 40 kilo Rottweiler along the ice. I thought my life might end yesterday. (Fortunately London hasn't frozen over to the degree of the North; there are but two or three really dangerous patches).
P: Honestly. She came out of nowhere and vanished just as quickly like some sort of OAP superhero making me appear all the more inept.
E: 'Two or three really dangerous patches'. Jesus. It's like Day of the Triffids but with ice up here. One more reason why you'd be out of your mind to get a dog as well.
Since you have names for all your Ice Follies moves, you could just tell Attractive Woman (should she ask) that you were engaging in your chosen form of oriental martial arts, right?
I think the moment's gone to be honest.
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