Like my friend
Steve, who punishes any distinguishable misconduct on my part by popping in
“Apocalypse Now” and sitting on me until I concede whatever point it is he’s
making, T has also taken it upon himself to inflict small tortures.
His latest foray into poking me with an imaginary stick?
He stares at the top of my head. He does it just to freak me out, and it works every time.
I look over at him, and his eyes have landed somewhere just right of the part in my hair.
“What are you –“ and I’ll reach up, pat the top of my head. I have thick, coarse hair; and it’s not unusual for me to find things in it: bugs, leaf bits, that sort of thing.
What? No, actually I’m not kidding. If I had a dollar for every time someone said, “Hold on a minute” and then proceeded to pull something out of my hair, I’d be able to afford that collection of cool hats to keep stuff out of my hair.
It took me a while to catch on to T’s game.
“What? What are you doing?” And I’ll put my hands on my head, feel around for gophers or rubber bands or something.
Nothing.
“Why do you do that? Why do you stare at the top of my head?”
T laughs at me. “Because it completes distracts you; and it’s funny to watch you become unhinged, you who are normally so fully hinged.”
It’s true. I am normally fully hinged.
And yet I fall for it every time. Whether it is in a bar full of people or a party at a friend’s house? No matter. I look over, he’s staring at a point somewhere on the top of my head, I reach up, frowning slightly, to feel around for what he is looking at…
And he laughs and winks at me.
Dammit.
He got me again.
His latest foray into poking me with an imaginary stick?
He stares at the top of my head. He does it just to freak me out, and it works every time.
I look over at him, and his eyes have landed somewhere just right of the part in my hair.
“What are you –“ and I’ll reach up, pat the top of my head. I have thick, coarse hair; and it’s not unusual for me to find things in it: bugs, leaf bits, that sort of thing.
What? No, actually I’m not kidding. If I had a dollar for every time someone said, “Hold on a minute” and then proceeded to pull something out of my hair, I’d be able to afford that collection of cool hats to keep stuff out of my hair.
It took me a while to catch on to T’s game.
“What? What are you doing?” And I’ll put my hands on my head, feel around for gophers or rubber bands or something.
Nothing.
“Why do you do that? Why do you stare at the top of my head?”
T laughs at me. “Because it completes distracts you; and it’s funny to watch you become unhinged, you who are normally so fully hinged.”
It’s true. I am normally fully hinged.
And yet I fall for it every time. Whether it is in a bar full of people or a party at a friend’s house? No matter. I look over, he’s staring at a point somewhere on the top of my head, I reach up, frowning slightly, to feel around for what he is looking at…
And he laughs and winks at me.
Dammit.
He got me again.
.jpg)
27 comments:
Plant something really good in your hair next time you're around him...
Hahhaa! I'd be worrying about a bald spot but then I haven't pulled too many bugs from my hair. I like Shelly's idea! :D
Tsk, where is the 'like' button so that I can like Shelley's comment?
Anyhow, I was going to confess that I do what T does :-)
Sx
You have no idea what I am looking at, do you?
Still it's better than the thing where they point at some location below your chin and when you look down they bring their bent finger up and clip you in the nose. DUH.
I noticed your "What I Am Reading" and read about the author. He sounds interesting but he certainly has long pieces.
Those fully hinged hinges of yours must be getting a little rusty if someone looking at your head can set your doors to flapping in the wind. Next time he pulls that little trick of his just give him a wink and a smile. (then run like heck to the bathroom and check it out in the mirror) Now, we need to think of some little thing we can do to set his doors to flapping. I'll tell you what I do to the hubs......We'll be sitting, relaxing, perhaps with a cup of coffee. I turn and look at his face with a concerned expression, bite my bottom lip, put my finger to my chin in apparent thought, the turn away with a tiny little shake of my head. The man goes ballistic.."What, what is it? What's wrong? Do I look sick? Is that it?" Works a treat every time. Evil thy name is woman.
too funny.
This very thing happened to me, if you can believe it. When I realized what was happening I played cool and said, "Ya like it? It's new!" That put an end to it.
I like Shelly's idea to plant something in your hair for your friend to discover. I read this post with a bit of wistfulness: I used to have thick, coarse hair, too, and remember leaves, etc. Now if someone stared at my hair, I'm afraid they'd be looking at my bald spots. Oh, the ravages of age! So nice to hear you're still enjoying thick tresses and are fully hinged!
It's fun to have a private joke with a close friend!
I agree with Delores, you have to think of something to mess with his mind. Your imaginary stick with which to poke back :)
My friend J does that, but he's actually looking at all my gray hairs, because he's really old (four months older than me), and he doesn't want to be alone in his Geezerdom.
I have lots of brothers, all of them evil, and found a couple of things with which to yank their chains....
Squinting at their teeth every time their mouth opens generally works a treat, and if that fails to engage their attention then looking them up and down slowly and covering a grin somewhere around their waistband inevitably does.
Loving Shelly's idea at the top of the comments :-)
Hey Pearl! Oooh, you have a little something up there. No... left, left a bit... no, not that rosebush... left a bit... there ya go. You're welcome. Roth x
/why that onery little...
I'd have to kill him. I'll bet that gets old real fast.
"It’s true. I am normally fully hinged."
I love it! There is always at LEAST one sentence in every one of your posts that makes me LOL. :)
You've never seem like a hinged person to me. You seem skewed in a good way with your sense of humor.
I enjoyed your blog and a few others so much that I wrote about them on my blog:http://poetrose24.blogspot.com/
Shelly is a genius, as is mybabyjohn/Delores. If ever the three of you were to meet up the world would tilt.
It's nice being told you're fully hinged.
I lost my linchpin many years ago.
Actually, that could make a good title for a song:
"I lost the linchpin of the hinge of my life"
Dolly Parton could sing it.
I love it, which is why I am stealing it. Mind games are the best. Of course, someone does this to me, and my reaction would be somewhat violent. A little pinch, a soft punch.
Here's how to get him back. Tap your own CHEEK and tell him he has something on his CHIN. He will likley touch on his face the spot you touch on yours, and then you can correct him and tell him where his chin is :)
That's the great part about being bald. I can feel everything up there. The not great part is I bleed regularly if not wearing a hat.
Arthur Bracewell used to do that at primary school in the thirties. His forehead was like a bruised apple and I think it was just a nervous tic with him.
Post a Comment