Public Intercourse

Obviously, it is not meant to look like that.

At least not in this light.

But you know what they are like once they take a dislike to something.

Apparently, it was not only the wrong shape, but the wrong shade of purple too.

Now it is even more of a wrong shape. And even more purple – edging into black. Certainly, it is no shape or colour ever found in nature, and especially not in those occasional media items of old where their resemblance to particular parts of human anatomy was remarked upon in a purportedly humorous manner.

Of course, these days with photo editing software…

but even an expert with Photoshop would struggle to turn this particular one back into anything resembling something found in nature.

But there you go.

The human mind is a funny thing.

Normally, you wouldn’t expect a reaction like that, not even if a politician sneaked up on her and asked for her honest opinion.

I could see at the time that the politician regretted it. I would’ve thought not many of them have ever ended up with a large vegetable with affixed party rosette in that particular place before. Not even those with… er… specialised interests who employ ladies of professional intimacy to perform acts that most of us regard as less than edifying.

I could have told him, if he’d bothered to ask me first, that if you are going to be unwise enough to ask her opinion she will give it to you.

And if you dare ask for her honest opinion she will give that to you too, with a force and directness that makes a herd of stampeding elephants look more like an autumn leaf falling to the ground cushioned by the gentlest of breezes.

She knows her own mind.

And soon enough, so do her interlocutors, and anyone nearby within earshot. Which, if it is a particularly strongly held opinion can encompass a radius of several miles. Those that know about fallout zones from nuclear detonations will have some inkling of what it is like to be subjected to one of her more thought-out positions on an issue of the day, especially one involving politics and the egregious self-serving duplicity of those elected purportedly to represent us.

Although, why she needs representing is not exactly clear.

She is more than capable of representing herself.

As that poor unfortunate aubergine discovered when she found it wanting.

But moussaka as she conceives it, is not a thing to be undertaken lightly and definitely not with subpar ingredients. Which, to be fair, is much the same way she thinks about politics and politicians.

Hence, the putative MP being carried away from their discussion by his aides with a look on his face that will make a visit from the party whips seem like the visitation of a heralding angel in comparison.

Anyway, there she was examining the produce on the vegetable stall at our local market with her practiced eye when the politician strolled up hoping for some media friendly badinage for the local TV news crew following in his wake.

Little did he know that the subpar aubergines had already exhausted her very limited patience.

He has only himself to blame really, for if you don’t want your party rosette and a subpar aubergine forcibly applied where the sun doesn’t shine, then maybe a political career is not for you.

 

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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