HOT AND CRUMBLY

Just heard the horrible news. No, not about Facebook being buggered up, unpleasant though that is (didn't even notice), but my apartment mate is taking a vacation day tomorrow.

Tomorrow is one of my scheduled days off.
I do not want her around.

No, I'm actually very fond of her. But her presence, on my days off, cramps my style. With her around, I shan't be able to smoke.
Nor will I be able to pick up a bright young thing and start a passionate romance that involves hugging and kissies.
Now, you understand that such a romance would not be even remotely likely to happen in any case, but the idea that in an ideal universe it theoretically COULD happen is immensely liberating.
And if it did happen, it would be in stages.
A gradual progression of steps.
Not sudden at all.

[Hypothetical classified advertisement my aura radiates at all times, except that women are all kind of dense and insensitive and don't even notice:
"Hi, I'm a middle-aged man who is ready for passion, are you a romantically inclined sweet innocent young thing who needs a grumpy Dutchman in your life? Do you like mature individuals who reek of pipe-tobacco? Do you enjoy reading good books in a rather messy apartment with someone smoking nearby who is also reading a book? Would you like to have lunch, then go back to my place where we shall discuss Kierkegaard and Sartre, perhaps while taking a bath? I've got a pipe or two I could lend you, and just sheer tonnes of pipe tobacco! I might even open a tin of aged Virginia, oh joy! Together we can pleasantly pass the time till twilight while sipping hot milk tea, in each other's company, as the fragrant trails ascend and mingle. Well hot diggety!
Let me walk you home."]

No one has ever picked up on the big glowing karmic neon sign above my head that spells that out. Which I find utterly baffling.
It's probably a problem with wavelengths.

They're just not receptive to the unspoken thought.
Or their processors put it in the junk folder.
Along with all the other spam.


Despite such lively fantasies, though, what is far more likely is that I shall spend a lot of time elsewhere tomorrow, because my apartment mate is a non-smoker. This is somewhat inconvenient.

Normally I shut her door firmly the moment she leaves in the morning, open several windows, and fill up a pipe. Then settle down for a leisure cruise through internet news sites, visit Facebook and Wikipedia along with a few dictionaries of various languages. By the time of my second cup of coffee I'm nearly ready to poke my head above the snowdrifts and look around with a quizzical expression on my face.

Two pipes before one o'clock, and later a snackipoo in Chinatown.
That gives the apartment enough time to air out.
The smell is gone by evening.

What I'm looking for is a perceptive and interesting companion.
Who likes old-fashioned aromas and objects.
And relaxes by reading.

What I always settle for is a hot beverage and a pastry.
Followed by a leisurely stroll with a pipe.
While observing people.

My life is quiet but rather enjoyable.
Indeed, it could be better.
But it's nice.


It's filled with flaky buttery goodness.




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