Ratty said:
Most locals are scruffy, fat and smelly.
Gee, thanks for the compliment. I don't know about the smelly part (coz I've no reason to enter elder's people intimate zones) but the scruffy and fat part is mostly fitting (for elders, of course). Though we can justify scruffiness by a certain degree due to habitual sweeps of very strong northern winds, or southern, or eastern, or ... hell it's always windy here, the only variable thing being the wind intensity.
I must admit that I've had the “privilege” of seeing from first hand a similar scenario taking place this May one night by the seaside during what was called "The fishermen's night". Among our numbers was a young, cute looking Russian ballet dancer whom we’ve met and embraced through an acquaintance of mine. Somehow while he was waiting in line to get barbecued sardine a middle aged man of proud stature, aristocratic countenance and lordly mien approached him with an uncharacteristically “warmhearted” gaze which was soon followed by unorthodoxly intimate hugging and rather portentous gesticulation. It was immediately apparent what his motives were, but we still allowed the little charade to continue uninterrupted (for the sake of a very good laugh) for another fifteen minutes or so. Then, alarmed by the seemingly innocent ignorance of our young Slavic friend and of ever bolder endeavors of our “Old Greek” we decided enough was enough and took immediate action. Thinking that he was under a more severe influence of alcohol (which had proved to be erroneous) I approached him with the rather sniping words: “A cute kid, wouldn’t you agree?” That seemed to set him off (and made me immediately aware of my miscalculated move, and the fact that I clearly was the one more intoxicated) for he was fast to react with a rather foreboding sarcasm of his own. Which in turn made my associate respond in an unnecessarily derogatory manner which almost escalated the situation to a brawl ( a lil’ touchy fellow, if I must say). Anyways, he (The “Old Greek”) ended with something in the likes: “Retire, or taste thy folly and learn by proof not to contend with the likes of me”. Things could have been messy from there if it weren’t for a timely intervention of his more composed friend (one of the fishermen in charge of barbecuing and wine decanting) and with all hostility thus circumvented we parted in a peaceful, albeit mutually reproachful manner.
Thankfully, the rest of the night played out in a more settling heterosexual environment...
