Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Curious Blue

His belt is silver tipped. It peeps out from under his deep green turtle neck sweater. He likes green. A lot. That dull scummy shade of green that really doesn’t do much for his pale pinkly complexion.

One blue eye is slightly smaller than the other. In a charming, attractive sort of way.

He glances up every now and then to comprehend why she’s taking so long to make sense of something so simple. Sometimes he does it just to get a good look at her.

“What are you thinking?”

Nothing. She’s sick of this shit. She’s rehashed the same damn thing five times, and right now she couldn’t care a rat’s arse. She’s blank.

“I’m stuck.”

Hmmm. He’s NOT going to be judgemental. He’d promised himself before boarding the flight that he wouldn’t be judgemental. But this is just not going anywhere. It’s just so simple and yet… nothing’s moving forward. Why can’t she just put it down? It’s just a damn three-minute story for heaven’s sake!

“It’s a tough topic this one, don’t worry. It will take time,” he offers. It’s been ten minutes and nothing’s moved. He felt obliged to speak.

She knows what he’s thinking. She can tell how frustrated he’s getting. She can see he’s making an effort to be patient. And right now, she can’t help but be amused at how hard he’s trying. Story be damned. This is funny. Ha ha. Ha.

She looks up and smiles at him.

He’s confused. He doesn’t expect a confident bold concentrated gaze from her. She’s the one who’s supposed to be struggling over here. Uh?

He leaves her alone and turns back to cleaning the timeline and shifting files from bin to bin. One frame here one frame there.

She’s relieved. It isn’t exactly easy to concentrate on a script with a pair of expectant blue eyes watching every squiggling scratch on paper. She tries to write a whole bunch of meaningless nonsense [just to look busy and productively engaged] as indecipherably untidily as she can. Bad idea, because now she can’t read it herself. Ha. This is just not working.

“Right. I think I’ve got it.”

Oh has he now?! She should be offended, but all she can feel is this bubbling mirth well up. This is fun. He knows what I should say in a story about myself. Right.

“Well, so you start with – I love the… and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to be… and you end with so today this is what I am”.

She writes it down as he dictates it. She’s tempted to say “can I get you cup of tea please sir, after the dictation?” But she daren’t. He’s being wonderfully helpful. This isn’t his job, and she knows she’s being rather arsey.

She smiles again. He’s not amused. There’s something about her smile he can’t place… it seems to bore through him, gently. It makes him…

He pulls out the recording device and asks her to read out what they’ve just written. She reads it. It sounds terrible. But she can’t complain. As she ends with “and today this is what I am” she can’t help let a long suppressed giggle escape.

She wants desperately to share the joke. This is terrible prose. It stinks... But he refuses to look into her eyes.

She feels stupid. Chastised. She shuts up.

The day has already come to an end. The voice-over sucks. Everybody can see that. So can he. And finally now it’s hitting her that she’s holding a headless baby. Her baby.

Fark. Fark. Fark.

Things are really looking shitty.

Besides she’s already heard from the others that he doesn’t like to stay at work beyond 6:30 pm. It’s 8:30 pm. she’s feeling guilty and all she wants to do is go home and die. Three days of no sleep. She can’t take anymore… least of all his judgement.

“Listen, I was thinking we could stay back another hour and crack this.”

She’s startled. But… but, doesn’t he want to go home?

She declines politely. “I’d rather go home and figure it”

She’s surprised at the puzzled look on his face.

“Ummm. Are you sure? I was thinking maybe we could...”

“No. Really”. She surprises herself with her firmness.

“Well. Ok. But call me anytime. Err… that’s if you need to sound off something… err if you give me your number I’ll send you my guesthouse number and umm… yeah”.



“Hey, and don’t worry about calling me any time. Seriously. I’ll be ummm… yeah. Just call.”


He told her later that he thought she was the most efficient and organised and focussed of the lot he had worked with, as he gazed sweetly into her eyes over amritsari fish and paneer tikka.



Lizza said...


That was the sound of me swooning over this story. Damn it girl, you're making it hard for me to work because of the images you're putting into my head. :-D

houseband00 said...

Keep em comin', sista! =)

Don't mind Liz. She's just drunk. =)

B Ditty said...

she's drunk? coulda shared the bottle ;)

very nice H, touched my heart

Lizza said...

I am not!!!

H said...

Awww Liz, thanks girl. I'm finding it hard to work too. :-(

HBeee... you'd really like to believe that would ya? eh? RUBBISH. she's just being genuinely appreciative. grin. and I agree with Liz... SHE'S NOT. Hellllllll NOH.

B DItty: ummm.. not as much as i think your next instalment of hafrank-tales about Nick's wedding proposal will... ahhh waiting.

houseband00 said...

Oh sorry Liz. =)

I thought the thud came from swoonong over something else! =)

Prometheus said...

Prometheus is thudded too. And speechless. He usually gets all speechless. Especially when affected upon by stimuli like a movie scene that critics term as 'powerful' but he can't understand because there was no Arnie in the movie and there were no 9.62mm SLRs going rattatattatatta and no MiG29s going aaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwww thukka thukka thukka.

H said...

Ahh. Prom bwoy, are you perchance sayin' that you don't get...

umm. hmmm. hmmm.

It's called chicklet baby. needs to be chewed and chewed and chewed on to really appreciate.

Prometheus said...

Prometheus is almost happy to have forgotten that word.

When Prometheus sees/reads such (insert forgotten big word) thing happening, he wants to go back to planes going aaaaawwwwwww thukka thukka thukka and machine guns going rattatattatatta and bombs going kaboom and Arnie saying 'I need your shoes, your clothes and your motorcycle'.

And somebody please kill Google. It wont let me sign in to comment.

Prometheus said...

Ooppsie.. Farking Google made Prometheus do a boo boo. The top of that comment got sawed off..

It went like: Nay Big H, Prometheus understands chick-lit. THAT is the problem.

The Guiness Book has it that this foreign word is the most difficult to explain in a dictionary. The word means "doing something both parties want to do but neither does it for fear of what the other party might think of them if they did it".

And somebody please murder Google.

nunu's mum said...

Somebody's smitten...

terribly smitten =)

keep grinning girl...........

Non-Sensei said...

'Damn' is right!
Well written.

Anonymous said...

Curious blue-moonstruck? He's definately not on par with Pro--- literary wise that is--- chick-lit-still laughing--- he's like the yang of your yin!!! Just saying, that's all--no arranging intended--well ,, how about arranged meetings of the minds-- his is sharp!! Blogger won't accept my comments---it's your blogging mama, aussiesnan

H said...

Prom Prom Prom [parumpumpum - couldn't resist that]: H is not as weakly victorian as that. H does not need smelling salts or swoon [unless she's battling with truckers at 1 am on the highway]. the only reason she shan't step that way is because... She's decided very consciously not to. Sometimes steeliness can be a farkin' curse.

Curious blue and moontrek ain't happening. But that doesn't stop her from flashback-flatulence on blog. curious blue was H's twisted mourning piece on putting it to rest. that's all.

But H appreciates Prom's convoluted, but sincere thought on the same. :-)

Nunu's Mum: Ahh. if only. H's continued incapacity to be smitten is alarming her. She grins because she's flattered and unable. [yeah yeah... judge her now :-( ] But how's our girl is Barnsley doing? I can now fully appreciate how difficult it is to cope with Brit iciness. ahhh.

Non Sensei: Thankeee. Good to see you again!

Ahhhhhh and lastly but most awaitedly, Blog-MAMAAAA! Nannnnn. If only... it isn't fun being psycho-analysed after you say no. Perhaps Blue isn't at par with our wit-loaded Prom-bwoy [who I'm increasingly convinced is brilliant ammo material] But he sure can make a girl wince with his fine educated comments about her internal-external realities.

H said...

Oh and... Prom, this is Nan, my blog-ma, Nan this is Prom. Jules this is Nan. Nan, Jules is Prom's amour.

Gosh. Indian Mothers! ;-)

Prometheus said...

Oh Jeeezus, can't keep secrets in the blogosphere can one? Uh, well. Big H, ya know, Prom an you can still.. nooo Jules, listen wait.

Nan, Prom has been stalkin yer blog. He's been meanin to ask ya if an Oz lady is also referred to as Mayte. He allus wanted to say 'Good on ya, mayte' like that mayte on Who Dares Wins.

H said...

Ahh, but the irony of it all is that Aussies Nan isn't Ozzie at all! Pure blooded [mutant winter-busting DNA and all] Canadian in fact.

But Philandering Prometheus, you are a naughty bwoy indeed! ;-)

Prometheus said...

She ain't Ozzie? Oh well. Guess its like Panama hats and the Hundred Day War and Canary Islands.

Philandering, you say? Though the alliteration is vaanzerfool, he thinks of it as.. umm.. keeping options open. Wot?

BTW: Jules seems to have slammed the door on Prometheus' face.

H said...

oh shite. is there anything Nan and I can do to fix it? :-D

Prometheus said...

Umm.. yeah.. Like that adage, one door slams, another opens. Like, you know.. like.. well.. umm.. meanin, you should listen to Nanster, ya know.

Prometheus said...

Wooo hoooo! Goo-farking-gle let Prometheus comment as himself. Awrite now. See? A little aggressive negotiation goes a long way. Those are 'negotiations with a lightsaber' as the Jedi would say. Also, for non Jedi folk, 'negotiations with rattatattatatta and thukka thukka thukka and kaboom'.

H said...

ahh. the epithets just grow, phickle philandering prometheus!

Prometheus is matchless in the phace of any adversity... phir Google kis khet ki mooli hai?

Prometheus said...

Heard over at Liz's that ya need a hug. So [[hug]].

H said...

Aww. Prom, thanks.


Lizza said...

My dear H, here's that hug.


Here's another one. Tighter this time.


Julia Scissor ;-) said...

I am aghast on reading Prom’s (enlightening) views. I was going to ask him out for a ‘Prom’ night. But now I’ll relegate phickle, philandering Prometheus to the position of paramour on probation. (as the bureau-catty-ic jargon goes.)
That’ll teach him not to be dirty linen dhobi in public.

NanNan said...

Sorry julia, now that we've been properly introduced, I won't go trying to arranging prom dates with my beautiful daughter--- "aussiesnan" might seem a misnomer- but at blogbirth, I had two grandchildren, one living in Australia, and one named Austin (nicknamed Aussie) so Aussiesnan seemed to cover all bases--this is a test to see if Blogger will let me in!!!

Julia Scissor ;-) said...

You have been tagged! :-)

H said...

Nan, can I just hug you. HUG.

Julia... umm. tag, did you say?

B Ditty said...

uh H I might explode if you don't write a new blog :)

Julia Scissor ;-) said...

FYI, that 9 weird things tag came around from my site. I had not intended that post to be a meme but I did write a footnote that said "you can tag yourself and use this as a meme."

H said...

PROMETHEUS! since I can't post on your blog.. here's a Shout for you...

don't ya go missin' too long bwoy... best of luck with the sabre wielding, booger busting, blog rescuing, shaolin shooting match with googer blogle.

Prometheus said...

Read that loud an clear, etcH. Prometheus thinks he has got the commenting shommenting thinger working. See ya around over there soon.

lastlifeinmyuniverse said...

haha cute story. well written indeed. i like your unique style !

H said...

thank you LLIMU [or shall I say Deb?] love your style too!

houseband00 said...

Joyeux Noel, mon ami! =)

H said...

to you to darling HB!

lastlifeinmyuniverse said...

merry xmas to you too hun ! :)

Lizza said...

I miss you, H. Happy holidays!

H said...

Lizzzz, in the words of, ummm, a wise man... I'LL BE BACK!

Happy holidays to you too...

lost said...

remember editing crap and smiling sweetly. The AD[ sweet young thing,though not quite a hunk] was amused. But, not the producer bitch

H said...

Lost, hahahahaha. Would love to hear about your episode.