Mses Prim and Proper were getting ready for an evening of
speed dating. It was a balmy summer evening and Proper could not decide between
a long/short skirt/trousers, blouse/sleeves/sleevless/pumps/stilettos? Prim had
no such trouble. She was in her standard fare of twin set and pearls.
“You haven’t made
much of an effort!”, declared Proper looking her friend up and down.
“I’m wearing concealer, foundation and pearly bronzer,”
replied Prim eyeing herself in the mirror and adjusting her necklace.
“I meant,” snapped Proper, “your outfit. It’s not exactly
seductive or alluring!”
Prim sniffed. Proper could be so crass and insensitive at
times.
“I notice you have all the allure of a canine on heat!”
Proper looked at herself. She did look a little like
rotweiler dressed up as mutton.
“Do you think the lurex and spandex is a little too much?”
“You’re a cross between a wrestler and a ballerina!”
“I’m just nervous,” said Proper,” Ms Arro-Gant and her
entourage, Air Head, Man-Eater and Twisted and Trashy are going tonight.”
“Whaat?” exclaimed Prim, “they already do speed dating on
street corners!”
Proper put on her sequinned jacket and opted for kitten
heels. She wanted to make a big impression.
“Sometimes, Prim you can be so unkind!”
The two ladies got into their reliable Reliant and headed
to “The Waste of Space.”
“I’ve always wondered why this wine bar has such an unusual
name!” mused Prim.
Proper took a sharp bend: “It’s named after Buxom Bertha’s
three ex-husbands.”
Proper’s bandeau dress was suffocating but she understood
the principle that beauty is pain and Prim was giving her a very pained
expression.
Proper tottered to the bar and ordered a cocktail: “Sex on
Four Legs” for her and “Right and Tight” for Prim. She needed loosening up.
Proper scanned the room. “OMG, Prim, look who’s here…only
Slut-Face….haven’t seen her for years and she’s hooked up with Arro-Gant and
those hanger ons.”
Prim didn’t much care to fraternise with the nouveau riche.
Sure they had money but absolutely no taste!
An announcement was made over the PA and the bell rung to
indicate that they were to take their seats.
The two ladies sat down. Prim was careful to cross her
ankles not her legs and Proper could barely cross anything in that dress.
A selection of men passed through but none were particularly
enticing. Some could barely walk or fit their paunch under the table.
“Look at those trollops flaunting themselves. They’ve bagged
the best talent,” cried Proper, as she saw a
succession of lean and taut men revolving around them.
“Cougars”, stated Prim.
“I like pussy,” said the man opposite her who seemed to be
salivating.
“How dare you?” cried Prim, whacking him with her handbag.
The man brandished a can in front of her.
“It’s an energy drink!” he explained, taking a large swig.
Prim thought it was time to get a little air and Proper
looked in need of rescuing from a hairy looking specimen with wandering hands.
The ladies stumbled outside and bumped into Slut-Face and
Arro-Gant.
“I see you’ve come as a mummy,” trilled Arro-Gant dragging
on her cigarette and observing Proper’s bandeau dress.
“And you’ve come as a tart on the rocks,” retorted Proper
and boy, did Arro-Gant have some big ones on each of her fingers.
Prim was not amused!
“Least, we’ve got something to put on show,” said Arro-Gant,
spilling out of her push-up, balcony bra.
“Those puppies should be put on a lead, “said Prim, eyeing
the abundance of flesh on display. It just wasn’t decent.
Slut-Face’s bottom stuck out like Blackpool Tower. It was
disgusting.
“Let’s go Proper,” said Prim.
“I need to….. but I can’t get out of this dress!”
Prim pushed Proper into a bush so that she could relieve
herself and then took her home.
“Arro-Gant thinks she’s the bees knees!” huffed Proper
“Sickly sweet I’d say and her honey bush could probably use
a comb!”
“Of course not,” chided Proper, “ she’s full naval
commando!”
The next day, the ladies were having tea in the
conservatory.
Proper was surfing on Facebook.
“OMG,” cried Proper, going pale.
Prim almost choked on her custard cream.
“Do you have to do that?” she admonished,” even Poupou
jumped!” Poupou was quite unconcerned as he nibbled at the biscuit crumbs.
“Arro-Gant has uploaded photos from last night and there’s a
picture of me in the bush…aaagh!”
“I have never agreed with that social media utility,”
declared Prim,” but revenge is a dish best served cold.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ll have to upload something ourselves.”
Prim sat at the computer and started copying, cutting,
pasting and photoshopping.
Soon she had taken Slut-Face and Arro-Gant’s faces and
photoshopped them on to the bodies of two bulldogs, complete with tiaras and
pink, feather boas.
Proper rolled around with laughter.
Just then the door bell rang.
Prim answered and ushered in a gentleman.
“Who’s this?” asked Proper.
“My speed date,” said Prim.
“You’re not supposed to give them your address!”
“But I made a promise and my word is my bond,” replied Prim.
“And what did you promise?”
“That we would meet every week for poetry reading.”
“Oh,” said Proper now re-thinking her bandeau dress. Prissy
Prim had got herself a date even without really trying.
So to the backdrop of Lords Tennyson and Byron Proper logged
into a chat room and had a good old gossip session about desperadoes who need
to go speed dating!!
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