Mistaken Identities (X 3)

 PR: n/a  I: 63  L: 0  LD: 2  I: 3  Rank: n/a  Age: n/a  I: 0  whois source Robo: yes Sitemap: yes  Rank: n/a  Price: n/a Links: 79|17
 PR: n/a  I: 65  L: 0  LD: 2  I: 3  Rank: n/a  Age: n/a  I: 0  whois source Robo: yes Sitemap: yes  Rank: n/a  Price: n/a Links: 78|17
Info  PR: n/a  I: 65  L: 0  LD: 2  I: 3  Rank: n/a  Age: n/a  I: 0  whois source Robo: yes Sitemap: yes  Rank: n/a  Price: n/a Links: 76|17 Density

CASE No. 1

My beautiful wife is an excellent story-teller.  She can spin a yarn that is much more entertaining than when it was live.  I’ve often thought “WOW” when hearing these stories never realising at the time what a great experience it was.

Along with this story-telling gift she also has the great talent of being able to tell a lie and prove it.  She won’t say “I think it’s..” – No – she’s straight into “It’s…”.  This endearing trait can be a little disturbing at times but I have learned to live with it.

Las Friday night we were sitting outside  a little bistro in the village.  It was dark but the street lights provided a subtle ambient glow.  At the next table there was a side-plate which was piled high with something.  M was nearer than I was to this little mountain so I asked her what it was.  She looked round and said “whitebait”.  There was no “I think it’s whitebait” or “It could be whitebait” – it was “whitebait”.  We of course went through the Cathleen Tate routine of “the dirty bastards…”.  The Spaniards are into eating anything.

A little later M left the table giving me a clearer view of the “whitebait”.  It turned out that this whitebait gang were in actual fact eating sunflower seeds and the pile on the plate was the shelly bits that you throw away.

When M returned to the table I explained the reality of the contents of the plate.  She just said, all unconcerned like – “it looked like whitebait to me”.

CASE No. 2

M and I have very good friends down the street – so as not to embarrass them I’ll call them Eric & Lynne (their real names are Lynne & Eric).  They kindly gave us a key to their gate so we can have a swim while they’re out.  Never one to expect owt for nowt, I will cut down some of their ferocious bougainvillea to “pay for” our swim.  This week they were playing bowls in Mazarron which is a good hour’s run down the coast.

Yum yum we thought.  I went down first as I sometimes (!) get fed up of waiting for ‘er indoors.  I set off with my clippers, leather-gloves and cowboy hat – I clipped a bit at the front and side and then entered the garden.  They’d had a BBQ the night before and had cleared up but left a bag of rubbish on one of the plastic tables.  Ever-helpful me thought “I’ll take that to the bin” just to be more helpful.  This was around midday.

On their return at around 4.00 pm, a rather irate Lynne came and buzzed my gate.  “Hello Lynne” I said cheerily “Have you been down to our house today?”.  I admitted I had.  Did you see a black-plastic bag?  I said cheerfully that I had.  You utter knob-head – that was all the dirty crockery from last night.  You’re barred from our garden for ever you prick – she continued as she stormed off to look in the bin.  BTW – I made that bit up about the cursing and the storming off – Lynne never swears.  She was a bit upset but came round after a couple of minutes of my charm and wit and started to see the funny side.  Eric saw the funny side straight away and won’t let me forget the incident.

We duly played at being Moroccans and filtered through the crap that was on top of the black-plastic sack.  On finding the BPS, to my great relief only one glass had been broken.  I think it’s the first time I’d blushed in years.

Sorry again L & E.

CASE No. 3

This is a classic.  Whoops – I’ve just seen the word count has crept over 700 so I’d better save CASE No. 3 for another day.  Au revoir.


About Stevie B

I retired to the sun in February 2010. I am far from bored but I do need an interest (preferably one that pays).
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