I have an admirer

On tour I pretty much always have an admirer. The older gentlemen see me doing really heavy and sometimes difficult things. They see a level of competence that is sexy. And the position of authority I hold over them, as part of my job, appeals to some.

They generally don’t get too handsy (I shut that shit down fast) but they have other ways of demonstrating their feelings. They might take on a specific role that helps me, for the tour duration. They’ll angle to sit next to me, on the rare occasions I actually  sit. They will develop all sorts of minor health issues that I need to treat. They will tell me all sorts of life anecdotes that only periphally touch on the current circumstances but  which are designed to portray them favourably.

But this one guy? On this tour?

He writes poetry. He presented me with a whole folder of it on day 3 and showed me his (self published) book. Today he wrote a poem for me because I couldn’t be there and he wanted me to experience it!

He’s managed to convince us that he should reaf his poems aloud on the bus and has done so, to mass indifference and a little polite celebratory clap at the end, most likely because it had finished.

It isnt even good poetry. In fact, it’s really awful poetry.

Vogon poetry.

This man once wrote a poem about farting in church! Yes, I heard that masterful epic. Be thankful you didnt.

I am being wooed by a man who writes Vogon poetry. Gotta say, it is a novel approach.

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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