Thursday, 7 June 2012

Secret Service: EPISODE 30

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex
Inner Hamlet

Hello Pet
I am feeling a trifle downcast this morning and I don't think it has anything to do with the weather - which is generally wet in all directions.  I met up with William from Raptor-on-the-Lake at the hot chocolate shop in Bright Litton yesterday evening, prior to viewing the film we had jointly agreed upon.  He is a nice enough chap dear, but I do not feel the sort of Zing I would expect to feel under the circumstances.  Anyway, we trotted off to see this film - which was particularly dreadful I thought - and I did suggest to William afterwards that perhaps we should demand a refund!  However, there was one mitigating feature and that was the Ministry of Information (1949) black-and-white 'short' which was shown prior to the film itself.  Have you ever heard of these pet?  Well, they were showing 'THE HANDKERCHIEF DRILL' (not, as you might think, anything to do with 'brush past' manoeuvres) - and it was exceedingly funny.  The plot of this piece took the form of some poor woman trying to train her rather large spouse in the use of a cotton handkerchief whenever he sneezed - instead of blasting the common cold virus into the faces of all and sundry.  Apparently there is a whole series of such films and I am certainly keen to see the rest!  However, the main feature ended (at last) and off we went for our meal.  It was during this repast that I attempted to convey to William that perhaps boys and girls were too different in their attitudes and interests to be all that compatible from the standpoint of romance.  And William did rather confirm this view when he remarked that he was a 'typical guy and therefore a predator.'  I don't know dear.  I don't think I want to view myself as a prey animal for the course of an evening out on the town.  I do recall saying to William at this point that perhaps, in actual fact, I was a lesbian - but I don't believe I succeeded in being sufficiently off-putting!  However, he did drive me home and I felt that I should ask him in for a cup of tea prior to his returning to Little Gollington.  The 'cup of tea' was not, luckily, as you described pet!  I had my wits (not to mention my secret skills) about me, as you can imagine, and this was helped by the lack of comfortable facilities in the form of a sofa.  In short,  despite a distinct feeling in the atmosphere that a closer physical intimacy was a mere hair's breadth away, I did manage to usher him out after not-too-many minutes - with my clothing still well-buttoned and upon me.
Your loving

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