There is a principle similarity between the veiled insult, the humorous insult, the direct insult, and the complimentary insult: Each is an insult. ~ V. Shnodgrate
The Commissioner was a blunt fellow.
He had a blunt nose.
And blunt mouth.
He was indeed a blunt fellow.
Now, I don’t tell you this to scare you; rather, I mention it just because the other day this professor was attending a political function that he was throwing.
It was a dressy occasion, so I thought I’d put on a tie. And there is a main problem with ties: They get tight about the neck.
So, this professor had it loosened. It wagged about happily, too.
Anyways and a few, when I arrived, I was lost.
You see, this political function was being held in a hotel, and hotels are larger than one assumes. That is the exact reason I made my way to a triangular fellow who was behind a short desk. (Triangular: His cheekbones and chin made a perfect obtuse triangle.)
“Hello, sir,” I said, engaging contact,. “Now see here, where is the political function taking place, if you don’t mind?”
And I fear he cast a supercilious eye on me. “This is a dressy event.”
“That’s why I’m wearing this tie here.” I waved it broadly so he could see it.
The sad part is I don’t think he did. His eyes stayed locked on mine.
Then he said: “I sell drinks.”
“My apologies,” I said. “I took you for a fellow that new the way. I see that you do not. Weren’t you invited?”
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“I doubt it, since you haven’t helped me yet. You know…strike that and reverse it. I’d like a drink.”
Mr. Triangle sighed. “What would you like?”
“Umm…” I began.
It wasn’t the best of beginnings, agreed, but I might’ve been at a loss.
“Give me the usual.” And I was confident in this answer—at first.
“There is no usual.”
“Okay…” I said. “I’ll have some of this”—I indicated a bottle—“a bit of that, some of this bottle here, a bit of that, and…oh, that cherry and olive right there.”
He stared for the longest time. Then he made it, and handed it to me.
I sipped it—it was awful.
“$56,” he said.
“Put it on my bill,” I said.
And I left, turning the corner quickly.
I did move quickly, since I could hear him calling after me. I don’t think he was happy. Imagine a $56 drink! A toggogin.
Anyway, I made it to where the convention was taking place. It was in a ballroom.
The first thing I noticed was that everyone was drinking something. I took another sip of the concoction that dull fellow had forced on me. It was probably a mistake.
I ventured further into the room.
There was a young lady standing with a fellow who was wearing a castle on his bow tie. (It’s the new thing: Imprinting things on bow ties.)
“I just don’t know!” the young lady was saying. Very melodramatically, too. “It takes me so long to get ready for such events. I really can’t believe I ever get ready. Do you know—”she was having speaks with the fellow, but I think she wanted everyone to pay an ear or two to what she was saying—“do you know it took me a full five hours to get ready?”
The fellow just shook his head and smiled.
I had to say something, you know, you know.
The professor moved closer.
The fellow cast a strange glass towards my drink. “That’s an interesting drink. A cherry and an olive.”
“Look here for a second,” I began, “it takes everyone just as long to get ready. Going over a certain time period is referred to in the jungle as ‘self-inflicted torture.’ And ladies, I fear, generally do that, and then blame the consequences on the fellows. Case closed. And—look!—there’s a period.”
That caught the lady and made her cranky. “Really?” she said.
I nodded. “I wouldn’t lie so blatantly. Look! I had to get ready.”
She cast an eye at my loosened tie—which I waved (I’m always waving ties, I fear)—and said: “Pleeeeeeeeease.” That was accompanied by a roll of the eyes.
The fellow chuckled a bit.
“You may not,” I said.
“What?!” the lady asked.
“I don’t know you well enough first off,” I replied, “and besides Mr. Triangle made it specially for me.”
“What are you talking about?” the fellow said.
And I did my best to looked shocked. “Well, I though the lady was asking if she could please have a sip of my fantastic drink. And I must say I have to refuse.”
The conversation ended there, thankfully, as the Commissioner stood to speak.