Dearly Beloved Scumbag,
So… there I went again. Walking
the streets of my town. I had done some groceries and came down Lesser North
Street. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed the window of a shop selling luxury
items of feminine clothing. There was obviously a sale going on because
fluorescent yellow and purple pieces of paper had been attired behind the
glass, on which texts in black marker were written. What was on them anyway?
Not that I cared, but I looked nevertheless, falling for the advertisement
heffalump trap. “All articles on the tabble 20% off”, the sign said.
Tabble?
What the heretic’s balls is a tabble, I wondered. Could it be a term of the
trade, known by all diligent housewives and other members of the shoppers clan?
Could it be some sort of standard measurement, as in ‘three tabbles per square
meter?’ Or another word for coupon? Get your hot ‘n’ trendy tabbles now! Cool
tabbles, fresh from the factory! I really didn’t know… It occurred to me that
the intended word could have been ‘table’, but this seemed too bizarre as a
writing error. So I stopped in the street, looking around me for someone to
seek counselling from. But there was none such person there. Everyone looked unapproachable
and walked on without noticing my despair. I hesitated. Could they… could they mean ‘table’ after all? I
peered inside and saw something of a table there. But a tabble… ? This was insufferable!
I had to know and stepped inside, despite all my reservations.
A little bell sounded in the
back of the store and eventually, a remarkable woman came through a stained
glass windowed door. Hey, look at that, a solitary man in a women’s clothes
store… how peculiar. But she had to attend to the customer. She looked just like
Emma Thompson playing Professor Trelawney in the Harry Potter films, the clairvoyant
one: thick glasses and big bush of bleak red curly hair.
‘Hello, can I help you?’ ‘Erm,
yes… this may sound a bit strange, but I just walked by the store and saw the
sign in the window saying “all articles on the tabble 20% off”… and now I
wonder what a tabble is… or that it possibly meant to say table… ’
Et cetera… that’s how it went
today. Big fun!
Ohh geesh! How did I miss this one ??? Well, obviously I missed it because I LIVE UNDER A ROCK. And so I miss all sorts of strange happenings in the universe - Like tables universally rebelling and becoming tabbles (which we ALL KNOW is a cross between a tabby cat and a cobbler). So now we have these irritating furry shoemakers mewing instead of sewing (hahahahaaa .... sometimes I truly DO make myself laugh.)
ReplyDeleteAnd I missed Angelina Jolie's double mastectomy, and a killer tornado in Oklahoma and this very intensely strange and attractive sociopath who photographed her boyfriend in the shower right before she stabbed him 22 times, slit his throat and shot him in the head. Do I hear 'overkill' ???
You know, Martijn, it's getting tough to live an existence with one's head in the sand. No matter how deep I plunge my neck, news of this maddening world infiltrates my silent retreat.
My apologies for not having stopped by sooner.
xxx
Apologies not necessary, not the least. I visit my own blog only when I have to, so... no no, all's fine.
ReplyDeleteLiving under a rock is my dream and I too shut myself off as well as I can. How nice it must be to miss all the BS, to live in a Big Small world of one's own. I did miss that shower murder though, perhaps my rock is big enough. Attractive you say? Google, here I come! Hey hey!