So, the professor was sitting at a table in a restaurant, minding my own business (which I always never do) when I was joined suddenly by Amelia.
Now you may know about Amelia.
And you mayn’t.
It’s better if you don’t, I think.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked.
But she was already sitting, so…worthless question.
The professor shrugged.
And that’s when I was also joined by Mr. Ratherquite and his Ladies.
“Sir,” Mr. Ratherquite said, “good to see you, sir. Good to see you.”
Both Ladies giggled.
The professor had been setup. It was a gag, a gas…a trap. Interesting. It was of interest, see.
“So,” Mr. Ratherquite said, folding his chubby little hands, “we need to talk.”
“But you look nervous,” I said, “and this professor doesn’t have speaks with people who are nervous. Means they’re hiding something.”
“Fool!” the red-haired lady said. She was skinny—her neck definitely was—and she had a large green-stoned ring. She continued: “Mr. Ratherquite is never nervous! Now, we’re here for your own good.”
The other lady—she had blond curls—giggled. “So you should actually be thanking us!”
“Ladies,” Mr. Ratherquite said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Now, now. Don’t overwhelm him. See, sir, I feel it’s my duty that—”
I kinda tuned him out there. Amelia was staring at the table.
This wasn’t good.
“Now, look here, Mr. R,” I said, interrupting. I pointed to the red-haired lady’s ring. “Did you buy that for her?”
Mr. Ratherquite was taken aback.
“Why…umm…uhh…why yes, sir! Yes, I did.”
“How much was it?” I said it fast. It was quite important to keep him off his feet.
“Sir!” he stammered, turning red.
The red-haired lady was blushing, and the one with blond curls was looking at her ring angrily.
“See,” I said to the lady with blond curls, “he didn’t get you one, did he?”
She turned on me suddenly. “No!” she squeaked. “He didn’t!”
Mr. Ratherquite started to say something, but this professor wasn’t finished.
“Now,” I said, “that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you. It just means he likes you a little less than he likes the other one.”
That did it.
The welkin rang, and the floodgates were opened.
Everyone spoke at once. The red-haired lady was debating hotly with the crying and screeching blond-haired lady. And Mr. Ratherquite was trying to break it up.
Amelia was smiling slightly and staring at me.
And that’s when the professor took his leave.
Moral: When attacked, it’s best to knock your opponent off his feet. Confuse him. Gardooble him. Then you win. It’s fairly simple, I know, but it also works in polite conversation.