More than a match.
In the penultimate paragraph of my previous post I mentioned what actually amounted to an ultimatum. I’d been unable to resist the temptation in giving Kerry a big hug with a big kiss to go with it after hearing “The Sorry Tale Of A Poor Bus Driver”, even now some 40 years on it I feel a great deal of merriment whenever I stop and remember that morning, but an ultimatum I was surely given.
If I wanted to get familiar I’d better get rid of the beard!
This did put me in rather a dilemma; I’d sported the beard for some 7 or 8 years and I really liked it; it kind of hid my moonface and I still believe suited me, so what to do. I mulled it over for some hours, literally. Kerry and I had arranged to meet when she finished work and go for a couple of drinks at our new watering hole, we were to meet down at the Quay near Cadmans Cottage behind the Museum of Contemporary Art. So sometime during the afternoon I bit the bullet; sort of, taking my trusty blade I committed what to me then was the ultimate sacrifice, sort of!
At the appointed time I was at the rendezvous point, I watched for her coming and once I espied her I turned my back and made like I didn’t know she was coming, at the right moment I turned smiling broadly so to speak and Kerry uttered those three magical words, “get it off!”. I’d shaved the beard but left the moustache. I thought it was hilarious but for some reason or other she didn’t agree. I must admit I did look rather stupid with this great handlebar type moustache, it went well with my beard but looked ridiculous I knew that and knew it would have to go, I just had to make a last stand, like General Custer who sported something similar.
It was quite obvious that Kerry was a bit wary or perhaps ambivalent toward me, these were the good ol’ days before mobile/cell phones and she was reluctant to give me her home phone number or even her address. so deperate times call for desperate measures. I’d been upfront and honest with her from the beginning, letting her know that I’d been married and that the marriage had busted up more than 10-12 years previous and I had not seen or had anything to do with my wife in all that time.
Also I had no idea whether or not I’d been divorced so I suppose she had every reason to be cautious, so I resorted to devious means to get the info. Kerry’s aunt, Jean, happened to be the Company Secretary of the company that Kerry worked for, and not only was Jean very close to Kerry she was also very close to Margaret, Joe Hutchins, the publicans wife. They were both dedicated “left footers” and regularly prayed together along with a group of sisters who I seem to recall were some sort of distant relatives, anyway as I’d said in my previous post I got on well with Margaret, so one evening after I’d said bye bye to Kerry and seen her on her way I joined Margaret in her private living room at the Orient where she liked to play her grand piano and I’d be her only audience, Joe’d be down in his cellar messing about with his chemicals producing god knows what and I asked Margaret to get Kerry’s address from her good friend Jean. At first she was horrified she seemed to believe that as I’d been married before I couldn’t set my sights on somebody else, especially the niece of her good friend and a catholic to boot.
However, I managed to assure her my intentions were strictly honourable and that I’d like to send Kerry some flowers for showing me some kindness or something along those lines, the flower part is true though. But I also knew that if I had her address I could quite easily find her telephone number through the ‘phone directory, and I knew that Margaret was too trusting to doubt my sincerity, silly woman. 😈
Shortly after I stopped writing this ‘Blog’ I received a text message from my wife who having read my previous post; actually the one before last if you consider the last one a serious ‘Blog’, and I’ve been mulling over it ever since. You’ll notice by the date on it that I received this text message a few days ago. I have tried to work out the message as a vocal message. trying to ascertain was it sent with an implied warning? was it in anger? It really doesn’t sound like a gentle request usually gentle request have a smiley, so I think I can rule that out. It doesn’t quite have ‘write at your peril’ attached to it so I have decided not to write anymore about Kerry, well not directly at least. Naturally if I happen to write anything concerning me over the last 40 years she must get a mention here and there as she has been there with me the whole time and it is therefore completely unavoidable.
I do so hope she understands. 😈
Heres’s the text mesage as on my mobile thingy;
8 thoughts on “Desperate Measures!”
Boy, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.
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Nor I in yours if you don’t stop spinning those damned glasses lids and bottles
Your reminiscences are charming and a joy to read.
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Why thank you Ira, I just hope she thinks so too, 😛
M’lord If I have any wielding power, please more of your early days of you and Kerry. Lovely, lovely to read. Ira
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I’m planning on a few more Ira Kerry and time permitting I’m also planning on some pictures too, that will get me into trouble for sure. 😈
I love your stories of your past, So glad you found Kerry. I think she was strong enough of a woman to handle you. I feel that’s what you needed was a strong woman. Hope all is well.
I think she was the right and perfect one for me Lisa, I might tell her oneday 😀 😈