Cautionary tale
… or best to avoid tangled webs like the plague. What triggered this was a quick comment to me this morning, not that it was an issue I was assured, but the other day I had one of those vista pictures in the sidebar which need attributing in the caption line.
So it was attributed and then, late afternoon, I replaced it with the Toodles pic of her beach (it will go up again later today). However, I’d forgotten to take down the attribution to the previous one. I’m sure you’ve tumbled to the scenario … yes, Toodles’s beach pic was technically attributed to another lady (actually girl) for some minutes.
I woke up some minutes later but … well you know … too late. In the Others Say section accessed from the sidebar, there’s a description of your humble blogger … “you are a mad man, of limited intellect”. Uh huh, I’m fine with that, I do try to fulfil that as often as possible.
Which immediately reminded me of an incident I may have related here a few times (the good thing about approaching Alzheimers is that everyday is a new experience).
Anyway, this was in Russia and the ex-gf had become ex again for, I think, the second time of about four. No matter … so get this for my intelligence level … she and I always frequented a cafe called Giuseppe … and so did most of the town … you already getting an inkling?
I need to insert here that I’m anything but a Romeo … in fact, some ladies have referred to me as Winnie the Pooh. However, I knew one or two in that town and promptly phoned three (it was my day off) to see if they’d like to come to Giuseppe for a pizza or whatever. They seemed to be at a loose end, so D was scheduled for maybe 11 a.m. (can’t remember exactly now), L for 1.30 p.m. and A for 4 p.m. The girls working there found all this interesting and I’m still thinking L, a well known figure about town, may have been tipped off.
Anyway, L did not turn up but at 4 p.m., with A there, munching on pizza, who should turn up but L. “Sorry,” she said at our table, “I got the times mixed up. When was mine?” Beetroot Jimbo did not reply, A was grinning, L said, “Well I’ll leave you two to it, shall I?” and off she went.
It gets worse. L was the best friend of the ex-gf. I looked at A, she said, “I think you’re a bit of a playboy, Mr.H.” “Me? No, I’m Winnie the Pooh.” Anyway, we ended up clubbing that night, running into everyone each knew … small town.
It gets worse. L agreed to see me, alone, no one else, did I understand English? In two days, around lunchtime. Yes, at Giuseppe.
That went off fine, I offered to drop her off at her work after it, we were driving down that road and who should be there on the corner but my ex-gf. L said to drive on, don’t stop.
I stopped 50 feet further on and got out, there were words, as she was with someone. Thought I knew him. I got back in and L was staring straight ahead, fixedly. I tumbled to it. “Who was that guy?” Not a word. Then, “He’s your boss, isn’t he?” I was not the beetroot that time.
Anyway, with thoughts like these, I went into Twitter this morning and there was this: