Dear Diary, Today is speeding along, and like a freight train in the days of steam engines, great puffs of smoke fill the airways. No Dear Diary, I have not taken up cigarette smoking. Heaven forbid! The price is outrageous for a packet of cigarettes. I guess this is as good a time as any to make a confession ... I did smoke once, only once. I was but a little slip of a girl with little to do this particular sunny late summer day. Boys around my age were experimenting with cigarettes and tobacco, and I desired to emulate them.
Let me remind you Dear Diary that this was way before Women's Lib. Girls did girls activities, and boys played marbles. Of course, way back in what today's youngsters call the dim dark ages, women had a method of obtaining what they desired. It began with the eyes, which could be used in all manner of ways to beguiling the male sex [and then the word sex was not spoken by decent girls]. Many of the movie actresses smoked cigarettes on the screen. They were so very sophisticated with their elegant slim white cigarette slid ever so carefully into a long holder as they draped themselves across a velvet chaise lounge.
My only encounter with the cigarette unfortunately was not elegant, or sophisticated. It was vile. I had taken a packet of tissue papers from the drawer in the kitchen, sneaked a box of wax matches, but couldn't find the tobacco. Determined as I was that today was going to be the day, I searched the edge of the garden for a dried dock plant, carefully plucked the leaves and with fumbling fingers managed to roll it into a cigarette; though I don't think it would be recognisable as such. I placed it in my mouth, and being careful not to burn my fringe, struck the match, held it to the cigarette, and drew back, as I had noticed the movie stars did. Smoke filled my lungs; a disgusting taste over-powered my mouth. I felt bilious. I tossed the cigarette away, after trodding on it to extinguish any remnants of fire, and promptly emptied my stomach. I was not a well girl.
After breakfast I realised I needed some toiletries, and seeing it was sunny, if cool, morning, thought a walk into town would be a bracing start to the day. It was bracing!
Near the shopping mall I heard a woman with a hideous laugh. She sounded flirtatious and cheap, and I wondered whom the young girl was giving in to such unladylike unrestrained mirth. As I rounded the corner my eyes bulged in disbelief. Ms Shocking Pink, Harold's companion, was hanging off the arm of a middle-aged, rotund gent, whose hair was as bald as a newly laid brown egg, and whose spectacles were like the ends of a lemonade bottle. Ms Shocking Pink was laughing up into his eyes. Clearly they were more than acquaintances!
Suddenly the penny dropped. Because Dear Diary, after lunch yesterday Harold came sneaking to Niece's house, knocked at the door and solicitously enquired after my health. Niece, courageously, hurried to my room asking if I desired to see him. I didn't. She told him to leave. According to Niece Harold's jaw dropped [like a Basset Hound she related] as he scuttled down the path and out the gate.
Seeing Ms Shocking Pink with another 'suitor' told the end of story. Harold was tossed over the side of the ship for someone flashier. Funnily enough, Dear Diary, I find the whole situation extremely amusing.
Let me remind you Dear Diary that this was way before Women's Lib. Girls did girls activities, and boys played marbles. Of course, way back in what today's youngsters call the dim dark ages, women had a method of obtaining what they desired. It began with the eyes, which could be used in all manner of ways to beguiling the male sex [and then the word sex was not spoken by decent girls]. Many of the movie actresses smoked cigarettes on the screen. They were so very sophisticated with their elegant slim white cigarette slid ever so carefully into a long holder as they draped themselves across a velvet chaise lounge.
My only encounter with the cigarette unfortunately was not elegant, or sophisticated. It was vile. I had taken a packet of tissue papers from the drawer in the kitchen, sneaked a box of wax matches, but couldn't find the tobacco. Determined as I was that today was going to be the day, I searched the edge of the garden for a dried dock plant, carefully plucked the leaves and with fumbling fingers managed to roll it into a cigarette; though I don't think it would be recognisable as such. I placed it in my mouth, and being careful not to burn my fringe, struck the match, held it to the cigarette, and drew back, as I had noticed the movie stars did. Smoke filled my lungs; a disgusting taste over-powered my mouth. I felt bilious. I tossed the cigarette away, after trodding on it to extinguish any remnants of fire, and promptly emptied my stomach. I was not a well girl.
After breakfast I realised I needed some toiletries, and seeing it was sunny, if cool, morning, thought a walk into town would be a bracing start to the day. It was bracing!
Near the shopping mall I heard a woman with a hideous laugh. She sounded flirtatious and cheap, and I wondered whom the young girl was giving in to such unladylike unrestrained mirth. As I rounded the corner my eyes bulged in disbelief. Ms Shocking Pink, Harold's companion, was hanging off the arm of a middle-aged, rotund gent, whose hair was as bald as a newly laid brown egg, and whose spectacles were like the ends of a lemonade bottle. Ms Shocking Pink was laughing up into his eyes. Clearly they were more than acquaintances!
Suddenly the penny dropped. Because Dear Diary, after lunch yesterday Harold came sneaking to Niece's house, knocked at the door and solicitously enquired after my health. Niece, courageously, hurried to my room asking if I desired to see him. I didn't. She told him to leave. According to Niece Harold's jaw dropped [like a Basset Hound she related] as he scuttled down the path and out the gate.
Seeing Ms Shocking Pink with another 'suitor' told the end of story. Harold was tossed over the side of the ship for someone flashier. Funnily enough, Dear Diary, I find the whole situation extremely amusing.
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