The train journey had been quiet and uneventful. I was glad of this. It had been a difficult weekend. The kids were upset that the Goldfish had died. It was their first experience of death and my wife had to remind me to bury it, rather than flush it down the toilet, as my childhood lore would have dictated.
And so Malarkey a carp with a grudge, at least to my mind, received a burial which in Goldfish terms was on a par with Kirk Douglas’ final farewell in The Vikings. Though without the flaming longboat or Janet Leigh to sob in the background.
He had a fin missing too, rather like Tony Curtis’ missing hand in that classic fifties adventure yarn. The similarities were uncanny.
I had an urge to roar “ODIN!” at the top of my lungs, but as I was sat in the Quiet Carriage and surrounded by signs encouraging silence and consideration towards other passengers, thought better of it.
“Is this seat free?”
An elderly lady was standing in the aisle. She was on her own. A sturdy leather case rested by her leg.
I stood up to let her sit by the window and then stowed her suitcase in the overhead shelf. I sat down and returned to analysing the spreadsheets on my laptop.
She unwrapped a Werther’s Original butterscotch and proceeded to suck and slurp on it with the vigour of a thirsty heifer.
“I like your shoes,” she said to me.
“Sorry?”
“Your shoes. I like them. Always admired a man in Brogues.”
“Thanks.” I was unsure of what to say.” I’ve always felt you know where you are with laces. Sturdy, reliable. Requires effort. Not like a slip-on. My first husband was a slip-on man. Needless to say the marriage didn’t last.”
She fell silent with only her ongoing mastication to be heard.
Without thinking I looked down at her feet to see what shoes she wore. A pair of grey sandals with Velcro fastening.
“Long or short socks?” she asked.
Erk….hope the encounter was brief-ish….
Loved the Viking goldfish funeral. Monumental in a fishy kind of way.
Kirk Douglas old heart,it was Kirk Douglas of the dimpled chin that was missing the paw. Him with that son now pawing all over our Welsh beauty Catherine Zeta Jones, one for Oily George perhaps. Glad the fish had a good sendoff..
Kirk has his eye put out by Tony’s Hawk. Tony has his arm chopped off on the orders of the King, who played Herod and assorted Roman nasties in 50′s epics. Funny looking fella. Looked like he had over active saliva glands.
A Pun A Day To Start The Day!
You have got me into this story and left me hanging on her grey sandals … this is not fair … I was anticipating a great finale …
Sorry Eliza, I left it the socks to allow people’s imaginations to run amok!
We had the Viking funeral when I accidentally killed my betta fish……..I am a poor excuse for a mother………
At least the fish had a good send off…….
A very Viking shoe, the brogue, They would remain safely on the feet as you delicately ran along the raised oars of your longboat.
Good point – I think Kirk wore a pair them in that scene.
Velcro sandal straps?! Sounds like she was ready for action!
Arthritic was my guess!
a life of 3″ stilettos usually leads to valcro and sandals later on
Agreed – if only we knew that when we were younger!
indeed!
Too funny! If you buy enough goldfish you will eventually be flushing them!
I think the goldfish was there to distract us from the love and foot-fetish-itude percolating in the quiet car…
You’ve rumbled me again Guap!
Malarkey – the carp without a fin.
I just purchased a package of Werther’s Original Butterscotch for my Dad the other day. This story is hitting too close to home. (Complete with the Velcro sandals.) Shudder.
I know, The IN LAWS are visiting soon…….
Hey, you’ve been tagged!
http://sharpsblogorama.wordpress.com/2012/04/27/its-tag-time/