I have decided to start out funny, just because I feel like it. But then suddenly and unexpectedly I am going to switch and go serious on you. It is jolting. But then I go back to funny. I went to a very stupid creative non fiction writing program that you will hear about in some detail later. They taught some drivel about keeping the reader interested. It was useless. I know that the reader is riveted to my work because I switch on you. You are scared almost,I would bet. When is she going to turn this upside down and when will it go back again. Please get it together again. To be quite honest, yet and again. sometimes I do not know. If you are observant you will have seen that I have gone quite serious for example in WEE.
I will start out with someone else’s witticism. It does begin with a true story however. I met this guy and I think he was trying to impress me for a nefarious reason. Actually I know he was trying to impress me for a nefarious reason. He told me he owned an island near Malta. Owned, I know he said owned. So I told my friend Marcus this. He just shook his head and said: “ Not a good idea Alexis. Two palm trees and four slaves. It would get boring after awhile.” I laughed and laughed. By the way, the guy and I had a mutual friend who I will not name for reasons of discretion. He said: Well he lives on an island near Malta, but he does not own it. The mutual friends said the guy was a womanizer. But here is the good and the bad news. At least this guy was older than I am. I guess that is good for me but bad for him.
Marcus was involved in the next witticism but he did not make it. He is making a secret appointment for me. I said to my friend Jessica that I would tell her what the secret appointment was for, if she guessed. I gave her the clue was that it was something I would do but she would never in a million years do. We were sitting in the Member’s Room of the Tate Britain looking out at the Thames. She said: “Parachuting?” I laughed so hard I almost ended up in the Thames, which would have been difficult because it was across the street. But that is how hard I laughed.
She had another funny joke, We were talking about excitement in life. She said ‘You can get a long way in life if you don’t advertise your dullness. Very funny and very true, but as we all know those dull people cannot help themselves.
Then there was another time. We were walking through the galleries of the Tate Britain when we were doing our project that you are going to hear about later. A grouchy guard (staff I guess) told us that we should be quiet because we were disturbing others. I complained to Marcus and Marcus said that we should have just told him to pretend that were were ten school children on a visit. Now that is funny because school children at the Tate Britain are SO noisy and no one does anything about it. I did complain to the school teacher and a staff member told ME that I was out of line. The kids had drum sticks and they were making a cacophony of noise that was very disturbing. I suppose I could have complained about the staff member that treated me as if I were the problem but sometimes even I can give up. I was leaving anyway. So I just gave that person and all assembled a haughty shrug of the head and walked off with dignity. Too late for dignity probably but I did walk off.
After Jessica and i were insulted I told her that we should go to an un named place in the Tate Britain and we could make as much noise as we wanted. I said we could even take off our clothes and it would be ok. The boss of the unnamed place said that if we did remove articles of apparel he would be forced to put a screen around the table but after that it would be ok. Again, a true story.
But here is one about the boss of a posh restaurant in an unnamed British institution. i had just taken to wearing an enormous engagement ring on the second finger of my left hand. It is actually the engagement ring from my second marriage. I wear it as protection from men, thinking that I am engaged and hence leaving me alone.(Incidentally and strangely, it is not working). So I asked the boss of the posh restaurant what effect the ring had on him. He immediately said: “It is like a red flag to a bull.” He thought that fast. He looked at me once and said in an amazed voice. “You are short!” I said that I was and that I had lost an inch (old age). He said: “I hope I don’t loose an inch.” Another time he was talking about his big fat fingers. I said: “What else is big?” He said: “My feet”.
So I have a theory: when funny people are around, funny people get funnier. I said to the guy in the previous paragraph that we could never get together because we would die laughing. I said that a pope died from hiccups once because he could not get his breath. So I surmised we would not get air and die. They would find us and I would be blue and they could figure out why I had died. But not him, because he is black. That would give a whole new meaning to the expression, black and blue. But gentle readers, worry not. We did not get together.