Mustard Shampoo

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– “Oh no Frances, don’t do that again! It’s only Tuesday…. What time is it?”

– “Early enough, and listen to this, it says Venus is aligning with the Moon today, and small events stemming from Capricorn’s innate daryness  will pamper you with a stream of luxurious payback…. can you translate this?”

– ” It means I need three spoons of sugar in my coffee today, stewardess!”

– “Oh.. I forgot to tell you, yesterday: we’ve run out of coffee.”

– “aarrrggghhhh…. check inside Tommy’s lottery box- if he’s still snoring…. you might find a couple of free coffee samples, as the horoscope suggests…”

– “I’m afraid I can’t, it says here- geminis  need to emphasise on time keeping today, or else  we may have to face self-piling workload.”

– “ok. Don’t forget the Arabica mild roast on your way back.”

– “I’ll write it on my hand. Bye! Don’t fall back asleep lucky capricorn!”

By a chance of luck, as I reach for my phone…. the battery’ s dead. Frances saved me again, because I had set the alarm  buzz for seven am.

Through the window I watch her walk away in a confident hurry, sporting a purple uniform and her favourite yellow crocs.

–  “Frances, I’m not a Capricorn, I’m a Sagittarius!!!” My words are trashed away by the noisy rubbish truck.

*          *          *

The boss has given us an extra lunch half hour, and once again the receptionist wants me to take her sample-hunting.

– “Let’s have lunch first, I suggest, there’s no queueing at the food stall right now. They said there might be a storm.”

– “What, is that what Francesca read on today’s horoscope?”

– “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s had it hard.”

– “And so have we all. Three samples for me and only one for her!”

– “Hot dogs?”, Asks the food stall lady.

– “Two for me with no ketchup, loads of mustard,  extra napkins and chopsticks please!” Anita’s not pulling her leg.

– “That will be eight pounds fifty, just eight pounds for you.”

– “I ‘ve not got enough coins…. so: Same order please,  but without the hotdogs!”

–  “Ummm… One seventy five, two seventy five, three pounds for you! And a hotdog on the house!”

– “Same for me please.”

– “Look, there’s a new bench there. Quick, grab it girl!”

I hesitate to ask then brave the question:

– “Anita, can I enquire…. why won’t you eat without chopsticks?”

– “They make me feel slender. That’s it.”

– “Oh, must be a precious feeling for a millennial female.”

– “Ok,  Capricorn! it’s beauty goodies time!”

– “But you only had mustard for lunch!”

– “Yes, I needed to make up for the free granola bars they were handing out at the station. Here, I took a couple for your pretty Frances.”

– “Thanks. We ve got twelve minutes left. Put some lipstick on, off we go on a lucky errand….. hey, I said lipstick, not Mustard!”

*          *          *

Anita was sniffing all the new shampoo and conditioner cute bottles, not lending an ear to me.

– “Do you do Mustard shampoo, Madame?”

– “Mustard shampoo? Not as far as I know. But our latest cinnamon edition shampoo and conditioner in one is your closest bet. Let me ask my supervisor anyway.”

Leaving all the bottle lids halfway screwed, Anita looks high on exotic essences.

– “Please Sir, could you be kind enough to fill in our creative suggestion form, and very importantly, your email address, because we are treating you with this season’s sample case.”

–  “But we’re late to work…”

– “No worries – I can quickly  fill it in for you,  because I am impressed with the beautiful shine on your girlfriends hair.”

– “Don’t misspell your email address again!” Anita the spoiler sometimes behaves like she’s my girlfriend.

Mission exceeded, we two colleagues are pleasantly excited  by what items we got inside the gift bags.

We hear a thunderbolt.

It’s raining so heavily we have to stay under the porch, dodging the upset bargain shoppers who only want a square inch of shelter.

The rain grows thicker and cooler. I’ll never forget the next five minutes, when Anita opens the coconut shampoo and the small crowd of shoppers instantly start querring about the product.

Anita wants the stage, and she starts foaming her hair under the storm.

I think they gave us an aphrodisiac instead of shampoo. Passers try and take pictures… but the rain’s too thick.

I cannot recall a sexier scene than my very professional receptionist washing her locks under the violent spring shower. I want to ask her what her sign on the horoscope is.

Anita needs not to feel jealous about any single millennial or trillinial chick. The girls got it.

Before the rain recedes the receptionist’s head is wrapped in a newspaper.

A rain scent still lingers on her- even today,  as all customers keep boomeranging back to our shop.

*           *          *

On my way back after work, I don’t bother to collect free papers to cut out the horoscope for Frances, as I’ve been fed up of doing for the past couple of years. All I can think of is brushing with Anita’s hair. I forget to pop into the supermarket to get a coffee jar for the flat. I even forgot Frances’ gift bag!

*         *          *

The flat door is unlocked and I am hoping it’s not  some burglars coming to steal toilet rolls. There’s sachets of mustard over the kitchen table. Frances treating my Anita again as a gesture of fair competition.

– “Thanks, Frances! Frances, you in?”

She sneaks out from Tommy’s bedroom. I pretend not to notice. The keetle beeps.

– “Who got the coffee?”

– “Tommy won a tenner on the Lotto! Says Frances, bottoming her uniform.

– “Well done.  Can I keep the change?”

The evening is light as usual,  lifting the work fatigue just when it’s time to sleep.

I could have guessed! These geesas  are a couple! No wonder they don’t mind me being three months behind the rent…

What other stuff is to be discovered this week? Do I have to peep on one of Frances’ horoscopes to find out?

*          *          *

Two weeks later, and as I am still scratching the love bite, a couple of emails come in at once.

One from the landlord, and one from the beauty store. Bad news is landlord going on a gap year so wants one years rent ahead, good news is we won the two shampoo recipe contests. I only submitted one- shampoo with rainwater…

Over the phone, Anita can’t believe her luck, and starts laughing and laughing,

– “I made up a mustard shampoo formula, just as a joke….. I didn’t even test it…. can’t believe we won the grand, plus the lifetime supply of beauty products!”

Well, it’s all typed somewhere in cyberspace. As for me I need to find a new room. The grand comes in handy.

– “You moving out with Frances?”

– “Nope!”

– “Then come to my block! there’s a free room on the second floor sharing with some dictionary animals…. sure they ‘ll love the mustard shampoo….”

– “Thanks.  I ‘ll check the horoscope and get back to you.”

– “No probs, Capricorn! I’ll be practising on a new sardines moisturising cream formula as a good bye prank to Frances – while you make up your mind…… gosh you really got me into this.”

– “Just to remind you girls once again, I am not a Capricorn, but the lucky Sagittarius…”

The End

Keep the competition happy!

 

 

 

Just another Status Symbol

mariano-nocetti-716793-unsplashDora hadn’t a clue that her smile was something to be ashamed of. She was in her mother’s car praying it wouldn’t crash as mum was closing some business deals over the phone.

The twelve-year-old was used to watching her being served as some sort of superstar again. It was the orthodontics surgery, and the kids in the waiting room looked as if they were on their way to be slaughtered with no mercy.

“it’s like getting some fashionable jewellery” said mum, in the usual voice she used when lying.

The specialist’s assistant used the words “brave” and “cool” to address Dora as she poked her gums clumsily with some sort of Middle Ages torturing instruments.

Dora thought to herself that all the genuine smiles she had been sharing with other kids, spreading love and connection, was actually a genetic default.

Mum had taken a check book and paid in advance. Dora didn’t get an option.

Like a broken AI that had been causing grief, Dora bared the filth of having four stinky hands – with no gloves- in her tiny mouth at the same time.

 

Not to mention the hygiene conditions. Bracket pieces were pulled out of a box, shoved into her mouth and then back in the box again, over and over again. Of course, her darling mum hadn’t been allowed into the surgery.

 

Dora overheard the orthodontist saying “this procedure will grant your child a lifetime of success opportunities- Dora’s lucky, only the privileged can afford this. The job will be done in eighteen months. Come back every 4 weeks for adjustment. And I will need to remove 4 teeth to make some space, but we’ll talk about that later.”

Once the session was over, mum said “You look so glamorous” and drove Dora around every friend’s home, showing her new teeth the way an old seller would bargain for a horse. She exaggerated the fee she spent threefold to each and every one of them.

One kid looked at Dora with pity and said “My ma would never do that to me.”

Is it right to teach a kid that beauty – if Colgate teeth can be named Beauty- counts more than dental hygiene? Because the bacteria collected during 18 months is enough to kill all the sharks in the London Aquarium.

Not surprisingly mum didn’t keep the adjustment appointments as she was busy “working” and cavities soon began to appear from South to North.

 

When Dora had had enough and was seeing that the result on her smile was “uglier” than it looked at starting point, she resorted to her granny to take her to have them removed. Her mother didn’t even notice the difference: she had completely forgotten about them all.

Dora had also missed a climax moment to get her first kiss.

After the disaster, it took the youngster 8 long years to learn how to smile again without covering her mouth with her right hand.

It seems like we are forgetting- in the human world, difference is so charming.

 

The End.

 

More humour here.

The Other Woman

votenow-2-transI am not the jealous type. But what happened to me last Christmas changed my marriage for good.

I had been suspecting her existence for a couple of months -but I didn’t think twice when I was sent to a Seminar in Manchester for a week: “if he’s got to see her he will anyway “.

My marriage with my teenage love was too perfect and I would even say boring for Her not to appear like a flesh Ghost. I hadn’t mentioned her to anyone, all I did was get myself a small cute notepad in Cards Galore, and tracked down the clues she left behind. I secretly enjoyed this and carried on with my life.

But when I got back from that Manchester Seminar and found he was not home, I thought myself a fool. Instinctively I went through the bedroom and en suite bathroom to find a case left behind.

It was a tablet case… with no tablet. All there was inside was a collection of cards I avidly went through one by one. This woman was spoilt, and popular. All cards said something like “free ” or “gift” on them, and there was a handful of VIP business cards too.

My darker side took hold of me and I quickly went to my little home desk and sat down to find a place to hide the treasure.[sociallocker][/sociallocker]

“Mother Christmas I shall call her”.

Still trembling with excitement I took a quick shower and undid my luggage. Stan had called to say he had a last minute football ticket given by his colleague and would be back home soon.

Nobody ever reclaimed the little “Christmas present ” but the following months were a new beginning thanks to the cards.

I had used one of the Spa vouchers for an egyptian mud treatment which knocked five  years off my skin complexion . I joined a belly dancing group with her membership card and started to enjoy a kind of sex appeal only celebrities can show off. I used the VIP contacts to make my way through a career change.

And best of all, my wardrobe got revamped and Stan said he couldn’t recognize the “new woman ” I had become. So he took me on a second honeymoon where we finally conceived twins.

While we were there on a drunk night by the fireplace, I confessed my little detective book and so he said She was just a woman he was trying to sign a deal with and who lurred him into intimacy. He said he had set her up with the football fan colleague to get rid of her -and now these two were engaged.

Drunk as he was, he showed me a video of her on his phone where she is shouting at a cabbie in Spanish.

“By the way, can I ask you Jennifer – you don’t happen to have a sugar daddy buying you all this expensive sexy underwear, do you?” And I spilled the whiskey on the sheepskin rug….

 

The End

More humour  here !

Sandra’s Tunnel

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Dreams
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This is what I work for.

 

 

 

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Those were the real times.
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I might die- but my tattoo will last forever.
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Wondering if creatures believe in God…
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In quest for the machine of everlasting energy.
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No means No.
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The brief time of glory
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Ideas are delicate
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The reptilian way of crying.

 

 

 

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When something random captures me.
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Diamonds at snack break.
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Pleasure exploading once.
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Is there anyone out there?

 

 

 

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Chewing gum.
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You drilled into my heart.
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The Joy of Water.

 

 

 

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