The word? Wild.
The result? I was judged to have won.
Talk about having your cake…
Having A Wild Time.
If there was ever a place not to lose it, it was here. The Savoy. Afternoon tea. Jane’s parents. First encounter.
Civilised conversation in faux tropical surroundings complete with aquarium; I wasn’t used to such finery, my upbringing primitive by comparison. I had to change my behaviour, above all remember not to swear.
“…apparently we taste like pork!” said her father.
“Shi…” I stuffed a whole crustless triangular sandwich in my mouth to prevent the final ‘t’ escaping, only to realise it was ham; I’d been vegetarian for years. My girlfriend’s expression said ‘don’t spit it out’, so I chewed. After a glistening top lip, sweat broke out on my forehead. My eyes widened. I snorted, stamped my feet. I banged the table.
“Ni! Ni! Ni!”
I leaped up, knocking a waiter over, sending a shower of tea and snowstorm of doilies across the room. A woman screamed. I couldn’t stop.
“Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!!”
I bounded across tables, trampling sponge cake, wrestling potted palms until I reached the fish tank and plunged my head in, mouth gaping – giant carp cowered under rocks.
Relieved, I dragged my sopping head out.
“F**k, that mustard goes right up your nose.”
Ever have a mustard moment?
This story appears in Better, a collection of 19 absurd & funny short stories.
If laughter is the best medicine: you should get Better.