Waiting for Gobbo…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s random dictionary words are: barghest, couvade, epulation, orogenesis, spahi, and whigmaleerie. Please have these words looked up and placed in suitable sentences ready for Professor Mouldie first thing after breakfast tomorrow morning. Extra marks will be awarded to students who bring the professor sweets and strong cigarettes.

‘Norris Couch?…’
‘Eh?… No.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure!’
‘Hm… If you say so, only he said he’d be right here, under the sundial…’
‘What time did he say?’
‘He said “just on ten”… Why?’
‘Well, it’s only 9.43.’
‘Ah right, so you think he still might… By the way…’
‘What’s your name?’
‘My name?’
‘Yes, if you don’t think I’m being impertinent in asking.’
‘No no, not at all, my name is Norris Sideboard.’
‘Oh… Okay… Definitely not Couch then?’
‘Definitely… Not even close.’
‘No, I suppose not… Hm…’
‘It’s a bit of a coincidence though, don’t you think?’
‘What is?’
‘Here, under this sundial of course… What time does it say now?’
‘Hm… 9.46.’
‘At night?’
‘Of course not! What do you take me for?’
‘Sorry, so what was your name again?’
‘Morris Couch.’
‘Ah, yes, of course… Morris then… not Norris?’
‘First yes, and then no, and whilst we are on the subject, what’s your name… if you don’t mind my asking?’
‘Pearl Tapestry.’
‘That’s an unusual name.’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘Alright… It doesn’t look as if he’s coming then.’
‘Oh, he’ll come, I know he will.’
‘Is it the right day? Have you got the right day?’
‘What exactly is the right day?’
‘Well, one when it’s not raining… oh, and one bright enough to read the time on the sundial – perhaps a Tuesday?’
‘It’s a nice word isn’t it?’
‘What is?’
‘Tuesday… There’s a film actor called Tuesday Weld.’
‘Really? I find that very difficult to believe.’
‘Popular in the sixties.’
‘Ah, right…’
‘What’s the time now?’
‘If you like.’
‘What did you say your name was again?’
‘Maurice Sofa.’
‘Ah, yes of course… you know I think it might cloud over.’
‘What might?’
‘The day Maurice, the day!… It’s tinting and greying in the west.’
‘Tinting… So it is… What did you just call me?’
‘Maurice… Was that alright?’
‘I suppose so, under the circumstances.’
‘The circumstances?’
‘Oh look! See… here he comes your man, just passing the abattoir! Is that him? Oh, he just spotted us standing talking and ducked down a snicket.’
‘A snicket Maurice?’
‘Yes Pearl, a snicket.’
‘Yes, isn’t that your…?’
‘He was wearing a hat – no, not Norris Couch, can’t have been… Actually Pearl was my married name.’
‘Did you have a maiden name?’
‘Of course I did! What kind of person do you think…? No maiden name indeed!… Is it ten past yet?’
‘Hm, funny thing time… I see you smile Maurice.’
‘I was smiling at the funny thing Pearl.’
‘Please don’t call me Pearl.’
‘No? What would you prefer?’
‘Call me Ishmael…’
‘No, it was a joke Maurice, you can smile now! You can call me Miss Gambrel-Mansard.’
‘Now that is nice!…’
‘Look, here he comes! Better late than… See, no hat on his shapely head! I wonder if he’ll be as good a conversationalist as you Maurice…’
‘Who knows Miss Gambrel-Mansard?… Have a nice afternoon… Good day!…’
‘Good day Mister C… I’m still not sure about ‘snicket’ though…’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in architecture, books, brain, conversation, drama, dreaming, existentialism, humour, surrealism, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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