Went out with Glenn last night. I think I said yes because when he asked me he was wearing a T shirt that said ‘No Outfit is Complete Without a Little Cat Fur’ – and I was touched. We just went to a pub in Hammersmith, and had sinister pub pies. (The kind where you honestly couldn’t say what the meat is. I thought mine was probably chicken with gravy browning, but Glenn, who knows a lot about cheap food, said it was more likely New Forest Pony, bought cheap in the autumn round-up, or else mechanically recovered meat slime, pressed into believable shapes.) It’s quite slimming going out with him.
He was going on about the Five Freedoms – a thing to do with chickens, where a well-looked after battery chicken is able to run, dustbath etc. Anyway, then he got on to what he thought the Five Freedoms for humans were, well, what they were for him, specifically.
1)The Freedom to live in a warm dry place with no rats or mould.
2)The freedom to eat food that doesn’t make you sick (or creep you out)
3) The F to be in a place where you possibly COULD have a relationship if you wanted
4)The freedom not to be hassled by The Man (ie not to be bothered by letters from the bank or credit card companies complaining about debts). (This would include freedom from landlord types popping in unexpectedly to see if you are breaking your tenancy agreement re cats.)
5)The Freedom to dream about the future and not be stressed out by global warming and governments doing nothing about it.
Every time Glenn talks I realise how different he is from me, in a kind of puzzling, disturbing way, that almost entirely cancels out how great-looking he is.
I said that one of my Freedoms would definitely be the freedom to wash in a lovely bath whenever I wanted, and put on perfume and crisply ironed laundry and a selection of (possibly vintage, to be ecologically sound) clothes and shoes. Oh, and have access to a hairdryer. He replied oddly to this. He said: ‘Yeah, that’s why we put in the bath-house.’
‘Where?’
‘At the farm.’
‘What farm?’
‘The farm where I live. In Cornwall.’
‘Aren’t there bathrooms in the chalets?’
He looked puzzled, and then started laughing. Strange man.
4 comments:
Has scones ever heard of Maslow's hierarchy of needs?
Cow thinks this guy is functioning at a very low level (basic survival needs such as food, cleanliness and shelter).
Cow just thinks Scones deserves a guy who has the basic needs sussed and has moved up the ladder to items such as good books, fine dining, taking his girlfriend shopping for fine lingerie or cute shoes, theatre seats, etc. Somebody who already has his own flat and a good job.
Sigh.
Cow does feel for Scones though, and knows that it's easy after one let-down to settle for somebody who is available. Cow just wants the best for Scones.
Very pretty cake!
Moo!
Dear Topiary, I shall have to look up the Maslow thing and get back to you. It is a whole education chatting to you!
Well, if there was an alternative to Glenn, I'd look into it. But at the moment he is just offering friendship and the odd drink, and not being horrible or bothersome, and trying hard to be well-groomed - and he is great looking.I know it is very shallow of me to even care about this, but it is quite nice, when you are out with someone, to have other women look at you enviously. Still, I do appreciate the good advice. Love scones xx
Ha!
The "envy" factor certainly notches him up a level. For sure!
Cow understands this....and is glad for Scones. Have fun.
Cow wondering what happened with the married Greek guy that came to visit after holiday...humbly requesting an update.
Moo!
Dear Topiary, I'm going off to Rachel's tonight so I'll ask her for news about her Greek boyfriend. She's bought Mamma Mia on video for us to watch again, obviously because she's feeling sentimental about Greece etc. I'm not sure about seeing it a second time, myself.Still, maybe it'll be Okay Love from scones xx
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