I hope the festive season has been good for you. It was for me and I’m not really a Christmas, let alone a New Year sort of girl. The festive time used to make me feel inadequate everyone seemed to be surrounded by their families while I was struggling to get a text…
Over the years I have learned to approach it as another day and enjoy what comes. This year it was swimming in the loch, local pantomimes, and carols with the Dementia Choir. Turns out that in my sixties it does not take much to get a laugh, and yelling/swearing in the cold water is right up there with the happy faces of the dementia choir and a few close friends.
The last time we left Pete he was trapped in a sleeping bag way too near Woody to be comfortable and with his nemesis Pope annoyingly messaging him—intergalactically.
Let’s see what happens next…
Are Yer Dancin…
Most folk ask to dance according to Woody but not, it seems in the Lizard Lounge; not that I knew that until it was way too late.
There I was in the Lizard Lounge, a dungeon of a pub, dark enough to forget folk were watching. When Wham, my favorite earth band blasted out “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go”. Ladies of all shapes and sizes were giving their all, and I couldn’t help myself I had to join in.
“Jitterbug!”
I got so carried away that I pulled my much talked about down-into-the-splits and up-again move . . and was yanked to my feet by the biggest female I had ever seen in layers of taffeta and whiskers!
The waft of Brut should have warned me…
She crushed me to her chest so hard I could feel our bras collapse, so close I was staring at eyelashes long enough to brush my teeth…and before I could catch my breath my mouth was full of taffeta and I was twirling around the sticky floor her muscular body spooning me. Her strong arms dictated every move, they were as muscular as a gorilla, the sort Mex would give her right arm for, and made me feel so girlie I squealed.
I was dancing with an Amazonian woman, and everyone was clapping like we were on Strictly Come Dancing.
“You go girl,” shouted someone.
I was in dance heaven, android paradise. I smiled and waved, giving Woody an eye full of my best moves until she the Amazonian dancer began to quote Bunnie — jive.
“Jitterbug!”
Trying to keep up, was like trying to walk with both feet in one leg of a pair of pantyhose, and after several stiletto stamps, I danced an avoid-the-stiletto shuffle.
“I wanna hit that high..”
She lifted me onto one side of her hip, then the other . . . I crashed into a mountain of nylon — a little too close to the bar.
Glasses crashed to the floor.
Not that she noticed, and as she propelled me around like a head scarf my newfound earth stomach couldn’t keep up and the frigging Kit Kat I had eaten hours ago somersaulted.
She swung me onto my feet. I tried to catch my breath but she hurled me around again then I saw Mex, pissed yet again frisbee a beer mat.
My larger-than-life woman ducked pulling me into her cleavage of hair and tissue and went for another spin around the room. Chocking on god knows what, my head whooshed as I sailed past Woody. I threw him my best “get me out of here’ look but he just cheered.
As the song came to an end she stopped and looked into my eyes. “Honey that is something I will never forget”, she said. And I thought it was all over.
I, fool that I am, made the mistake of earth politeness and bowed. I had no idea another song was about to play and when “I’m Your Man” started, her favorite friggin song — apparently, my getaway was as forgotten as my down-into-the-splits and up-again move.
She grabbed my behind…
“I simply must dance to this”, she cooed. And before I could protest she slid me through her legs.
“Baby I’m your man.”
I swooshing through a sea of nylon, skidded across the Mex’s beer mats, and with a flash of muscular legs and a peek of fluffy underpants was up again...
It was so fast and yet so unforgettable . . .
I hadn’t even caught my breathe when she did it again . . .
Swoosh . . . tear . . . stop.
My strap caught on her stiletto and before I had a chance to close my eyes or have her pull me up, I saw not only the fluffy underpants but what was underneath. A flash, an apparition larger than a gorilla’s fist and just hairy.
Pope thought it was hilarious.
“How was your date?” he said. “I heard most earth folks ask to dance, apart that is for men dressed as women.”
Agrotharn by Milo James Fowler
Embark on an epic, hilarious adventure! Sword & sorcery, blades & blasters, talking dinosaurs, weird aliens, and space-time travel? Heck yes.
And now just for you my latest on Youtube…
Next month I will be back with another excerpt of Pete’s diary but until then happy reading.
