As bland as a digestive!
Chris the gardener has been doing the gardens in our area for many years. He's really good and full of ideas in terms of maintenance and what shrubs, plants and 
herbs to grow. He's also incredibly handsome and oh my goodness, he's as toned as a middle weight boxer.
I have to close my blinds when he gets hot and goes topless in the garden otherwise I'm flushed and blowing hot & cold for hours. I took the time to watch him for about seven minutes once and I had to lie down in a dark room for about an hour afterwards.
He's a very quiet man and he's the kind of person who comes to do the gardening with one mission in mind and that's to get the job done.
This morning, I get the impression that Chris was trying to chat me up. I say 'impression' because he was very subtle. I mean... we got talking and at the end of the conversation he asked if I wanted to go out for a drink or a meal one day. But the conversation was a bit strange. I say 'strange' because he talked about eczema, tooth cavities, his dead dog and which dish washer detergent works well on your dishes!
I tried to crack a joke or two and Chris looked at me like I was one of the muppets from the Muppet Show. Our encounter was definitely a Mars/Venus encounter. We were completely on different wave-lengths. I don't dispute the fact that he seems like a lovely man, but he was as bland as A4 paper or 
a digestive biscuit and the thought of spending an evening socially with him sort of fills me with dread. I also get the impression that my refusal of a date made Chris think he got off lightly because he gave me several funny looks throughout our conversation and Chris raised his eyes to the sky when I said my idea of fun is partying until my clothes are wet with sweat.
I lied and told Chris I was a lesbian so as not to offend him with my refusal to go out on a date, after all I don't want him planting marijuana in the green house and then calling the police on me. He said to me after a few long silent moments "what do you lesbians do?" I said "oh you know, party until our clothes are wet with sweat".
herbs to grow. He's also incredibly handsome and oh my goodness, he's as toned as a middle weight boxer. I have to close my blinds when he gets hot and goes topless in the garden otherwise I'm flushed and blowing hot & cold for hours. I took the time to watch him for about seven minutes once and I had to lie down in a dark room for about an hour afterwards.
He's a very quiet man and he's the kind of person who comes to do the gardening with one mission in mind and that's to get the job done.
This morning, I get the impression that Chris was trying to chat me up. I say 'impression' because he was very subtle. I mean... we got talking and at the end of the conversation he asked if I wanted to go out for a drink or a meal one day. But the conversation was a bit strange. I say 'strange' because he talked about eczema, tooth cavities, his dead dog and which dish washer detergent works well on your dishes!
I tried to crack a joke or two and Chris looked at me like I was one of the muppets from the Muppet Show. Our encounter was definitely a Mars/Venus encounter. We were completely on different wave-lengths. I don't dispute the fact that he seems like a lovely man, but he was as bland as A4 paper or a digestive biscuit and the thought of spending an evening socially with him sort of fills me with dread. I also get the impression that my refusal of a date made Chris think he got off lightly because he gave me several funny looks throughout our conversation and Chris raised his eyes to the sky when I said my idea of fun is partying until my clothes are wet with sweat.After talking for 20 minutes, if you ask me... Chris was glad I said no to his proposal of a date!
I lied and told Chris I was a lesbian so as not to offend him with my refusal to go out on a date, after all I don't want him planting marijuana in the green house and then calling the police on me. He said to me after a few long silent moments "what do you lesbians do?" I said "oh you know, party until our clothes are wet with sweat".
posted by August Mayfield at
00:13
2 Comments:
August
Can I have gardener Chris's number please. He might not be your cup of tea but I like the idea of a man who knows his dish washer detergent!
Polly
August, it's such a shame when eye candy turns out to be - well in your words - as bland as A4 paper. That's too funny. Really, I burst out laughing at work when I was supposed to be doing my accounts.
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home