Morning Becomes Electra: Thingorjus Bathed in Grecian Sunlight
Sep 26th, 2007, 04:18 AM
#203
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I will be posting another installment soon. I am extremely busy right now. My sister's father-in-law is ready to croak (he's 94, so don't feel sorry) and so she is constantly calling me on my mobile for sympathy.
Boo-hoo, sweetie darling. I couldn't imagine living to 94. I want to go before my chin starts to sag. Thank Gucci I have all my hair or I'd be checking out.
Thingorjus
Boo-hoo, sweetie darling. I couldn't imagine living to 94. I want to go before my chin starts to sag. Thank Gucci I have all my hair or I'd be checking out.
Thingorjus
Sep 26th, 2007, 06:29 PM
#205
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After arriving in the New Town of Rodos, we immediately entered a bar/restaurant/dance club called Lorna. (At least I think that it was called Lorna, but maybe it was called Cyclone or something like that. The name had an "L" in it.) . It was across the street from the Best Western Hotel and the Olympic Airline office. The place had marble tile floors and white tubular metal furniture. It reminded me of the dining room of an Iranian exile in Miami. Yes, Mrs. Hippikadippi's dining room sans the oil on velvet painting of the Shah.
Muffy soon attracted the attention of a large man in linen pants and blue blazer. He was dark, with black hair slicked back a la John Travolta in Grease, and was sweating profusely. He had a large belly, made from 10 years of scotch and Porterhouse steaks. The only cliche missing was the cigar. He started to talk to Muffy whilst Keith and I went to the bar to get drinks. (Keith was so relieved that they had Diet coke.) When we got back, this man was still talking to Muffy, which I could not understand because he was really not the type of guy she would even smile at. Why wasn't she giving him the brush-off????
Just as I was about to go over and find out what in the bloody hell was going on, things turned ugly. The man grabbed Muffy by the wrist and started to pull her toward him. That is when the beluga caviar hit the fan, sweetie darling. The man started screaming that Muffy had no right to disrespect him, that he was a very important person. I don't think he realized who he was dealing with, however. Maybe he thought she was some au pair on holiday in Rodos??????? Little did he realize he was grabbing a girl whose mother had cocktails every Thursday afternoon with Tiger Morse at the River Club in Manhattan. This man could easily disappear with one phone call to the right person.
The bouncers came to Muffy's rescue and the man was escorted out of the building. After Muffy composed herself and went to the lady's room to comb her hair (breeding always shows) she came back and told Keith and me the entire story. It seems that this guy was a Panamanian (his name was Nestor) who had sailed his yacht to Rodos. His yacht was parked in Mandraki Harbour and he wanted Muffy to go back to his yacht for a few drinks. Muffy didn't like him, however. He was fat and wheezy and had bad breath. He was a self-made man and she could tell he grew up in poverty. To compensate, he was overbearing, pretentious, and arrogant. Nestor made the mistake that Muffy would be impressed by his yacht.
After all the fireworks were over, Muffy and I got SMASHED DRUNK and danced the night away. Poor Keith was our nursemaid, taking great care that we didn't wander into traffic when we left the club. We stopped at some outside cafe (it was across the street from the cemetery for those of you who have been to Rodos.) We ordered some coffee and flirted with our cute waiter. But, even cuter was the Spanish guy standing out on the street with a crowd of people carrying suitcases. We chatted them up and found out that they were waiting for their tour bus to pick them up to take them to the airport (at 3 AM?). Muffy was enthralled with the cute Spanish guy with beautiful white teeth and a mop of curls. She wanted to get on the bus with him, but we wouldn't let her. For if we did, she would have ended up in Madrid the next morning with her Dior panties on her head in the Plaza Mayor. We said our "Hasta la vistas" and dragged Muffy kicking and screaming back to the hotel.
The next morning, nursing our hangovers, we made our way to the breakfast buffet. Only Keith could eat (lox and cereal--Oy Vay). It was there that we met a very nice lady and her son who were from Canada. Their names were Kay and Justin. Muffy immediately took a liking to Justin and threw him in the swimming pool. (This is how Muffy shows affection.) The pain au chocolate that he was formerly eating floated on the water like a brown water lily. Kay was nonplussed, acting like total strangers always pick up her fully clothed son and fling him into a pool of water. I was MORTIFIED. Keith, a middle school principal, was also nonplussed. He only gets upset when a student loses an eye. A body cast is just par for the course in his life.
"Muffy," I bellowed, "what did you just do? The poor boy is now soaking wet."
Muffy looked alarmed and wondered if maybe Justin had cigarettes in his back pocket and now they were ruined?????? "Oh, I am sorry if I wrecked your ciggies, guv," she blurted out.
"Muffy, the boy is only about 12. I highly doubt if he is a chain smoker," I continued.
It was then that I realized the futility and error of my statement to someone like Muffy, who smoked unfiltered Camels while she played hopscotch as a child.
After Justin dried himself, we all sat at the pool and talked. Kay and Justin had just come from visiting Justin's paternal grandmother in Milan. They told us about all the Russian mafia molls lined up outside Dolce/Gabbana for the July sales. Some were wearing furs. Oh, yes indeed, money creates taste. We decided to meet up later that night for dinner.
Muffy wanted to head to the Mandraki Harbour to search out Nestor's yacht. We took a cab to the harbour because Muffy said she couldn't possibly walk more than 100 feet in her new Sergio Rossi shoes. We walked along the harbour to look for Nestor's yacht. We finally found it as it was the only yacht bearing a Panamanian flag. I think the name of the yacht was the Clam-Hideous or some such name. Muffy wanted to go on board and TORCH IT!!!!!!
"But, Muffy," I howled, "I thought we were just going to look at it and go. I am not committing arson! I would not survive 35 minutes in a Greek jail."
(Actually, someone I know who is a prison guard once told me that not only would I survive in jail, I would probably run the place. I would be Prisoner in Cellblock Hermes.)
Keith just shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat the orange that he stole from the breakfast buffet. He wouldn't mind prison because he would get three meals a day and get to shower with desperate men.
Muffy tried to go aboard, but I stopped her. My life passed before my eyes as I saw Muffy take her Asprey lighter out of her Pierre Hardy handbag. Luckily, a flock of Japanese tourists walked by, thereby distracting Muffy, and I grabbed the lighter. I also told her that if she didn't wise up I was going to tell everyone that she was a size 9, not a size 6. Realizing that she had been defeated, she stomped away in a huff. She flagged a taxi and left Keith and me standing alone on the pier.
We decided to walk over to a boat that was a floating restaurant/bar. We ordered some ice teas and enjoyed the beautiful view of the water and the azure sky. We even held hands. Ahhhhhhhhhh......so romantic........so nice to defeat Muffy!!!!!!!!! It all made my VERY frisky.
Later that night, we met up with Kay and Justin for dinner at Da Vinci. Muffy did not join us because she said she was meeting someone (Keith and I honestly think she was secretly meeting with Big Bird). But, Muffy's absence did not deter us from having a very good time. The calamari was delicious as well as the company.
To be continued..........
Muffy soon attracted the attention of a large man in linen pants and blue blazer. He was dark, with black hair slicked back a la John Travolta in Grease, and was sweating profusely. He had a large belly, made from 10 years of scotch and Porterhouse steaks. The only cliche missing was the cigar. He started to talk to Muffy whilst Keith and I went to the bar to get drinks. (Keith was so relieved that they had Diet coke.) When we got back, this man was still talking to Muffy, which I could not understand because he was really not the type of guy she would even smile at. Why wasn't she giving him the brush-off????
Just as I was about to go over and find out what in the bloody hell was going on, things turned ugly. The man grabbed Muffy by the wrist and started to pull her toward him. That is when the beluga caviar hit the fan, sweetie darling. The man started screaming that Muffy had no right to disrespect him, that he was a very important person. I don't think he realized who he was dealing with, however. Maybe he thought she was some au pair on holiday in Rodos??????? Little did he realize he was grabbing a girl whose mother had cocktails every Thursday afternoon with Tiger Morse at the River Club in Manhattan. This man could easily disappear with one phone call to the right person.
The bouncers came to Muffy's rescue and the man was escorted out of the building. After Muffy composed herself and went to the lady's room to comb her hair (breeding always shows) she came back and told Keith and me the entire story. It seems that this guy was a Panamanian (his name was Nestor) who had sailed his yacht to Rodos. His yacht was parked in Mandraki Harbour and he wanted Muffy to go back to his yacht for a few drinks. Muffy didn't like him, however. He was fat and wheezy and had bad breath. He was a self-made man and she could tell he grew up in poverty. To compensate, he was overbearing, pretentious, and arrogant. Nestor made the mistake that Muffy would be impressed by his yacht.
After all the fireworks were over, Muffy and I got SMASHED DRUNK and danced the night away. Poor Keith was our nursemaid, taking great care that we didn't wander into traffic when we left the club. We stopped at some outside cafe (it was across the street from the cemetery for those of you who have been to Rodos.) We ordered some coffee and flirted with our cute waiter. But, even cuter was the Spanish guy standing out on the street with a crowd of people carrying suitcases. We chatted them up and found out that they were waiting for their tour bus to pick them up to take them to the airport (at 3 AM?). Muffy was enthralled with the cute Spanish guy with beautiful white teeth and a mop of curls. She wanted to get on the bus with him, but we wouldn't let her. For if we did, she would have ended up in Madrid the next morning with her Dior panties on her head in the Plaza Mayor. We said our "Hasta la vistas" and dragged Muffy kicking and screaming back to the hotel.
The next morning, nursing our hangovers, we made our way to the breakfast buffet. Only Keith could eat (lox and cereal--Oy Vay). It was there that we met a very nice lady and her son who were from Canada. Their names were Kay and Justin. Muffy immediately took a liking to Justin and threw him in the swimming pool. (This is how Muffy shows affection.) The pain au chocolate that he was formerly eating floated on the water like a brown water lily. Kay was nonplussed, acting like total strangers always pick up her fully clothed son and fling him into a pool of water. I was MORTIFIED. Keith, a middle school principal, was also nonplussed. He only gets upset when a student loses an eye. A body cast is just par for the course in his life.
"Muffy," I bellowed, "what did you just do? The poor boy is now soaking wet."
Muffy looked alarmed and wondered if maybe Justin had cigarettes in his back pocket and now they were ruined?????? "Oh, I am sorry if I wrecked your ciggies, guv," she blurted out.
"Muffy, the boy is only about 12. I highly doubt if he is a chain smoker," I continued.
It was then that I realized the futility and error of my statement to someone like Muffy, who smoked unfiltered Camels while she played hopscotch as a child.
After Justin dried himself, we all sat at the pool and talked. Kay and Justin had just come from visiting Justin's paternal grandmother in Milan. They told us about all the Russian mafia molls lined up outside Dolce/Gabbana for the July sales. Some were wearing furs. Oh, yes indeed, money creates taste. We decided to meet up later that night for dinner.
Muffy wanted to head to the Mandraki Harbour to search out Nestor's yacht. We took a cab to the harbour because Muffy said she couldn't possibly walk more than 100 feet in her new Sergio Rossi shoes. We walked along the harbour to look for Nestor's yacht. We finally found it as it was the only yacht bearing a Panamanian flag. I think the name of the yacht was the Clam-Hideous or some such name. Muffy wanted to go on board and TORCH IT!!!!!!
"But, Muffy," I howled, "I thought we were just going to look at it and go. I am not committing arson! I would not survive 35 minutes in a Greek jail."
(Actually, someone I know who is a prison guard once told me that not only would I survive in jail, I would probably run the place. I would be Prisoner in Cellblock Hermes.)
Keith just shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat the orange that he stole from the breakfast buffet. He wouldn't mind prison because he would get three meals a day and get to shower with desperate men.
Muffy tried to go aboard, but I stopped her. My life passed before my eyes as I saw Muffy take her Asprey lighter out of her Pierre Hardy handbag. Luckily, a flock of Japanese tourists walked by, thereby distracting Muffy, and I grabbed the lighter. I also told her that if she didn't wise up I was going to tell everyone that she was a size 9, not a size 6. Realizing that she had been defeated, she stomped away in a huff. She flagged a taxi and left Keith and me standing alone on the pier.
We decided to walk over to a boat that was a floating restaurant/bar. We ordered some ice teas and enjoyed the beautiful view of the water and the azure sky. We even held hands. Ahhhhhhhhhh......so romantic........so nice to defeat Muffy!!!!!!!!! It all made my VERY frisky.
Later that night, we met up with Kay and Justin for dinner at Da Vinci. Muffy did not join us because she said she was meeting someone (Keith and I honestly think she was secretly meeting with Big Bird). But, Muffy's absence did not deter us from having a very good time. The calamari was delicious as well as the company.
To be continued..........
Sep 26th, 2007, 08:10 PM
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Thanks Thingorjus. Just great. I was rolling on the floor. Need to know more about Muffy.
Your martini - shaken or stirred? BTW, a martini in every place I've been in Europe is 100% dry vermouth. Gin is not used. In Greece I suggest that you ask for an ouzo. For wine, only retsina will do with moussaka.
Sep 27th, 2007, 11:23 AM
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Would Muffy consider marketing her WWMD bracelets on QVC? The world is ready for Muffy and her message.
I know she doesn't spend her evenings prowling around the the dial in search of QVC. So get ready to duck and cover when you suggest she pitch her wares to millions of muu-muu clad viewers.
Timing is everything. As her cocktail hour runs from 12 noon onwards there is a big window of opportunity for you to tempt her with her perks, and $$$$. Some party pooper from the network can work out the rest of the details.
Just think, if she were to miss a taping, for any number of obvious reasons, you could step in as spokes model. Thin, you have the wrists for this. Imagine striking alluring poses, broadcast to a nation of insomniacs in trailer parks. There's a novel just beggin' to be written.
And Keith. Well, Keith could sign your name and an endearment on the photos you send to your fans. With a few more shekels in his pocket he wouldn't have to shop the Back to School sales. Imagine the pride he'll take in a brand new JC Penney short sleeved dress shirt.
p.s. Promise that you won't tell Muffy any of this was my idea.
I know she doesn't spend her evenings prowling around the the dial in search of QVC. So get ready to duck and cover when you suggest she pitch her wares to millions of muu-muu clad viewers.
Timing is everything. As her cocktail hour runs from 12 noon onwards there is a big window of opportunity for you to tempt her with her perks, and $$$$. Some party pooper from the network can work out the rest of the details.
Just think, if she were to miss a taping, for any number of obvious reasons, you could step in as spokes model. Thin, you have the wrists for this. Imagine striking alluring poses, broadcast to a nation of insomniacs in trailer parks. There's a novel just beggin' to be written.
And Keith. Well, Keith could sign your name and an endearment on the photos you send to your fans. With a few more shekels in his pocket he wouldn't have to shop the Back to School sales. Imagine the pride he'll take in a brand new JC Penney short sleeved dress shirt.
p.s. Promise that you won't tell Muffy any of this was my idea.
Sep 28th, 2007, 01:59 PM
#213
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That is ironic that you mentioned QVC because my Aunt Judith used to peddle her antique guides on QVC. She doesn't do it anymore because the last time she came over from London, they put her on at 1 AM, right after Kenneth Jay Lane.
Muffy's family owns most of Rittenhouse Sq. in Philadelphia, so she doesn't need to earn a living selling odd tat on the telly.
My maid, Esmeralda, had a heart attack this morning. She is in hospital, but I am worried sick about her. If she passes, right after my mother, I will be beside myself with grief.
Stay tuned, sweetie darling.
Muffy's family owns most of Rittenhouse Sq. in Philadelphia, so she doesn't need to earn a living selling odd tat on the telly.
My maid, Esmeralda, had a heart attack this morning. She is in hospital, but I am worried sick about her. If she passes, right after my mother, I will be beside myself with grief.
Stay tuned, sweetie darling.
Sep 28th, 2007, 06:13 PM
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Well, thank you, sweetie darling. That is very kind of you, as kind people are very few and far between on this site. I just visited Esmeralda in hospital and she is resting comfortably. I brought her three of my best Pierre Deux Aubusson pillows so she will feel more at home.
Thin
Thin
Sep 28th, 2007, 07:08 PM
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So sorry to hear about Esmeralda. Hope things are looking up for her.
And SO sorry you and Keith and Muffy couldn't have joined my sister and me in New Orleans last weekend. Did someone say Party Town? My sister actually got kicked out of the casino there when some scuzzy guy who was fawning over her left his table to go to the men's room and asked her to watch his hand - he won big and she tried to cash out and scoot. I never got her home before 3:30 am. There weren't a whole lot of designer shoes involved, but there was a sinful amount of vodka. We would be positively toxic together.
Off to the Big Apple tomorrow, but looking forward to the next installment.
And SO sorry you and Keith and Muffy couldn't have joined my sister and me in New Orleans last weekend. Did someone say Party Town? My sister actually got kicked out of the casino there when some scuzzy guy who was fawning over her left his table to go to the men's room and asked her to watch his hand - he won big and she tried to cash out and scoot. I never got her home before 3:30 am. There weren't a whole lot of designer shoes involved, but there was a sinful amount of vodka. We would be positively toxic together.
Off to the Big Apple tomorrow, but looking forward to the next installment.
Sep 30th, 2007, 09:33 PM
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"Kind people are few and far between on this site."
Excuse me? We fall all over ourselves celebrating your return from your hiatus, complimenting your writing, and wishing your maid a speedy recovery, and this is what you have to say?
Ridiculous...
Excuse me? We fall all over ourselves celebrating your return from your hiatus, complimenting your writing, and wishing your maid a speedy recovery, and this is what you have to say?
Ridiculous...
