Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

Return with us now to those thrilling days o' yesteryear... that bein' 1973:




The mind works in the strangest ways.  The first two posts I put up today referred to (a) Erica Jong's "Fear of Flying" and (b) librarians.  I had a thing with a librarian back in Former Happy Days... read as 1973... and the woman gifted me with Jong's novel.  Or mebbe it was me that gifted her with the book, I don't remember exactly.  So, flash forward to today where we were sittin' on the verandah, reminiscing about that point in time and most especially about our former lady love.  The woman we're on about had a penchant for "gettin' it on" (thank you, Marvin) in the strangest places... like in her office at the library (after hours) and here:

Monday, January 31, 2011

Confession Is Good for the Soul

Or so I've heard.  I just made a small confession in comments to a rather quirky post over at The Mayor's place and thought "what the Hell, the statute of moral limitations has sorta run out on this one, so I'll blog it."  My comment:
Apropos of nothing, I really was a volunteer at a community suicide prevention hot line once upon a time in the way-back.  I'll reveal one of the most shameful things I ever did in my life now, heretofore known to only a select few.  A select VERY few.  One of the other volunteers and I (we worked in pairs) took the phones off the hook for about a half hour one night so we wouldn't be interrupted while we engaged in other (and MUCH more pleasant) activities on the floor of the center.  It was worth it, in the end, and we consoled ourselves by sayin' it was a slow night.  Coz it was.  Sorta.
True story.  My partner in this episode of severe dereliction of duty was my kinda-sorta girlfriend; she was more like a friend-with-benefits, mainly because the woman had... umm... "other commitments" at the time.   This happened in the very distant way-back, at a time long before my moral code was firmed up, signed, sealed, and delivered.

And now you know one of my deepest and darkest secrets.  If there's any rationalization or justification for the above it would be this: the suicide intervention center I worked at had no record of any "saves" during the 18 months I worked there.  Our clientele mostly consisted of drunk, lonely, neurotic women who just needed someone to dump on... we even had a few "regulars."  So there's that.  But I don't really need to rationalize the activity at all, in the end it was worth it.  Just sayin'.
That was just ONE unconventional place where we "got together."  I could go on and on... for there were more than few odd places where we consummated our love lust...  but I'm sure you get the point, Gentle Reader.  

And now it's back out to the verandah where we shall continue to reminisce while conducting our early start to today's Happy Hour.  We got an early start on Happy Hour because the weather she is brilliant today... not that we actually NEED a reason for an early start, yanno.  We do this because we CAN.

4 comments:

  1. J'ai reçu ton livre chéri - hanging18 February, 2014 17:09

    radar sites had librarians!?? You guys were like on a Caribbean Cruise with all those benefits :-) I never dated a librarian, because, while they might have wanted to tango, I was unwilling, or more likely no bag was available.

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    1. radar sites had librarians!??

      No... not usually. In this case the radar squadron I was assigned to was a tenant unit on a bona fide air force base, which had both a library and librarians, plural. The lady in question wasn't one of your stereotypical 60-ish spinster type librarians... oh, no. She was in her late 20s or early 30s and was eminently delectable and desirable. So there's that. ;-)

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  2. How lyrical is the sound of a phone that interruptus when we are otherwise engaged on big people's business. I believe that I will have a dram on the veranda in the morrow.

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    1. A dram on the verandah is a highly recommended activity!

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Just be polite... that's all I ask.