bizarre as it may sound, we here at HBI get hit on by readers on a fairly
consistent basis.† Some are obvious
loons but others seem more subtle.† Not
to mention unique.
last week, I was contacted by a guy who was convinced we were made for each
always liked your writing and I think we have the same interests and sense of
humour.† Iíve traveled quite a bit, read
a lot and am not afraid to show my feelings.†
But at the same time, I enjoy hanging out with the boys, farting and
goody Ė a renaissance man.
travels have brought me into contact with people all over the world and Iíve
learned a lot from them.Ē† He cut to the
chase:† ďIt would be nice to get
together.† And I have thousands of tails
to share with you.Ē
was troubling.† Although in the past
Iíve overlooked things like heart-stopping ugliness, unfortunate dentition and
extra nipples, even I have my limits.
absolutely draw the line at men with tails.
sure Iíd find a tail distracting and by his own admission, heís got THOUSANDS of the things.
did he acquire them all? Did he escape from the Island of Dr. Moreau? Go AWOL
from a circus?† Is he the next
breakthrough after the mouse with the ear on its back?† Does his plastic surgeon have issues?
they all the same or does he have a variety?†
And why does he want to share them with me?† Is this some form of kinkiness that even exposure to the Old
Fella ô hasnít brought to my attention?†
Some obscure American gesture of friendship? How in the world does the
poor man find jeans that fit?†
I get to choose?† I could quite fancy
something prehensile.† It would come in
so handy on a crowded subway.
no Ė in my business, you have to play your cards close to your chest and betray
no emotion.† It doesnít pay to tip your
hand.† Having a tail would really be
more of a hindrance Ė everyone sitting behind me in the courtroom would know
when I thought Iíd scored a devastating hit in cross examination or was
particularly pleased with the courtís ruling.†
Iím not a fan of meeting anyone from the internet.† Iíve never done it and Iím not about to start Ė the whole idea
skeeves me out.† Remembering the Old
Fellaís ô adventures in trolling the web would be enough to put me off even if
I hadnít an aversion to it in the first place.
many people do it. Which brings me to my next topic. (Or ďtailĒ if you will.)
good friend of mine has thrown her hands up in dismay at the chances of ever
meeting a suitable, well adjusted man the regular way and has taken to the
internet.† We discussed it not that long
well I went for coffee with this one guy I met on Lavalife.† He seemed OK online, but in person he was a
real dweeb and he wasnít exactly honest about what he looked like.† Or his job.Ē
Imagine.† People you meet online lying to you.† Whatís the world coming to?
I just donít know how to go about it.†
How do you meet a sincere, honest guy these days?Ē
a thought Ė not on the net.
I guzzled endless coffee and ran up a frightening phone bill, we talked it
through.† Although I find it hard to
comprehend why any woman would think she needed a man, itís apparent
that some do and I did my best to be understanding and helpful.† Understanding, I can manage.† Helpful, well, not so much -- but with a
snootful of caffeine motivating me, Iím sure I made some pretty creative
come to no surprise to many of you Iím sure, but I am an avid coffee
drinker.† Iím ashamed to confess it, but
on a good day I can down in excess of 30 cups of the stuff.† Things have been extreme lately even for me
Ė this is due to my 15 hour workdays and the necessity of staying awake through
them.† Yep, thereís nothing like going
through years of school for the privilege of working 7 days a week for weeks on
end without a break.† Hundred hour weeks
mean that if I could mainline caffeine, I would do it.† My typical workday begins at 4 am and ends around
upshot of this is that by the end of the day, I sound like an auctioneer.† By as early as 4 on most days, I can feel my
hair growing and have breath like decomposing carrion.† This means little to me, however, especially
as a Timmyís has just opened right across the street from me.† What Canadian could resist?
yes Ė Iíve heard all the warnings -- coffee can cause your heart to become
arrhythmic, it drains calcium youíre your bones Ė but worst of all, it
discolours your teeth.† I noticed this
the other night, was appalled and set out to do something about it.† I went to the drug store and purchased a two
hour whitening kit.
read the instructions Ė youíre supposed to leave the stuff on for 20 minutes at
a time, take a 10 minute break and repeat until you reach 2 hours of
treatment.† Easy enough, eh?
applied the product and began reading some caselaw between yawns.††† Before you know it, I had nodded off.
hours later when I awoke, I ran to the bathroom and discovered my teeth were
now so white that they could serve as a rescue beacon in an avalanche.
God, I thought to myself, Iíll never pull this off.† Time for more coffee.†
After all, thatís what was responsible for darkening them in the first
I missed the manufacturerís warning that the product can cause sensitivity to
first swallow felt much like what I imagine being hit by lightening does.† Except the pain lingered.† For about half an hour.†† Then my teeth began to throb so insistently
that I was sure I could use them to check my pulse.
coffee wasnít the answer but short of brushing with coal dust, I was
stumped.† Damn.† Off to court.
spectacular was the glare that every time I smiled, nearby plants bent towards
me and effortlessly achieved photosynthesis.†
Passersby either winced or crossed the street in trepidation.† Short of handing out an arc-welding visor to
everyone I spoke to that day or single-handedly trying to revive fans as a
fashion accessory, I was bound for a few days of double takes.† And I had a motion to argue that day.
luck would have it, I had drawn a slightly deaf judge, notorious for becoming
annoyed with mumbling counsel.† Heís a
very nice man, but is getting on in years and relies on spectacles and a
hearing aid so as not to miss a word.
he entered the courtroom and took the bench, he smiled at me.† Reflexively, I smiled back.† He gave a visible start and took his glasses
off. I thought I could see his eyes water.††
He sat down and peered at me intently.
always make eye contact with the judge.†
Itís only polite and if youíre trying to persuade somebody of something,
glancing at them now and again tends to lend credence to your remarks.† This day, however, I found myself addressing
my remarks to the lectern in a misguided effort not to blind the court.† I cursed myself for not bringing a snow
goggles to assist him.† It must have
been like looking into the sun.
the matter was adjourned and I was on the verge of fleeing before I caused a
panic when I ran into the person I least wanted to see.† This woman, who shall remain unnamed, has
just been elevated to second in command in a place where one of my friends
works.† Iíve met her before and sheís
absolutely obnoxious Ė an avid purveyor of the most poisonous gossip around,
which she repeats with relish and gobs of malice.† Those skilled in office politics (and office treachery) often go
far, so despite her backstabbing ways and thirst for perfidy, I wasnít
thought of her as Number Two for years.
all it took was one brilliant smile to stop her in her tracks long enough to
allow me to make my escape.† I slunk
back home and it looks like Iím stuck here until the glow from my mouth has