Crafty Fag / October 27 2007
‘You haven’t seen me, right?’
‘Pardon?’
There was a small, flowery-dressed young man standing next to the dustbins behind the Arts and Crafts shop this morning as Audrey and I passed by on our misty morning walk.
‘Oh what an absolutely, gorgeously divine dog! Does she bite?’ He blew a sophisticated kiss at Audrey. ‘I’m just having a crafty fag, darling. If my boss catches me, she’ll have my guts for frilly garters.’ He pointed towards the shop’s rear entrance and swatted away an imaginary fly with his left hand. Then, very softly, he said, ‘Would you like me to give you one?’ His obviously plucked eyebrows lifted right up; they looked like they were trying to escape over the top of his head.
‘I don’t smoke.’ I said quickly, as if my life depended on it.
‘Oh, I bet you do, you naughty boy!’ He fixed me with his big, blue eyes and put his hands on his hips. He froze, becoming very still like a small, gay statue.
Then he stunned me by inviting me out for a drink.
I coughed.
‘I’m sorry. I’m spoken for.’ I managed to blurt out. Then, as a clumsy afterthought: ‘I’m straight.’
‘Oh well, you can’t have everything,’ he sighed, theatrically.
‘True,’ I said. ‘After all, where would you put it?’
Filed under Audrey / English Village Life / Humour
Comments
4 comments on “Crafty Fag”
Jo Beaufoix / October 29th, 2007 at 1:17 am
Irresistible to all.
Hooray.
Napoleon Fantastic / October 29th, 2007 at 12:29 pm
Jo,
Great. Now gay men fancy me. Great.
Nelson Galaxy / October 29th, 2007 at 4:06 pm
There’s nowt wrong with plucked eyebrows pal.
Napoleon Fantastic / October 29th, 2007 at 6:03 pm
Nelson,
Indeed. In fact, it takes quite a lot of bottle to wear them around here.
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