Soliloquy
As regular visitors to this blog will know I am, of course, a fool. This foolishness is manifested in various ways, and on the whole I put up with myself and make light of my idiotic tendencies, which I suspect are often caused by what my friend Dr. F pointed out not so long ago – a mild spectrum autism. Sometimes, though, I do not.
I was doing a job in Court this Friday. A relatively straightforward job, listed before a Circuit Judge, one of half a dozen administrative cases the judge had to hear that morning; procedural matters, applications for permission to so appeal and so forth. This “list” of cases kicks off about half past ten, and it always involves a lot of waiting about while the shortest cases are dealt with first.
So, there I was at ten o’clock, suited and booted, on the eighth floor in the shiny and rather soulless court building with rather grand views across the city, waiting, when a couple walked by and appeared to be booking themselves in with the usher; a young man casually dressed with a pony-tail hair-do, and a rather attractive young woman. Of course, it was her I noticed. I do not consider it sexist to say that I do notice attractive women; it is called “life”, and I was not always a monk. From time to time I have been fortunate enough to enjoy the company of some beautiful women, and I hope they have felt the same about me.
There was something about this young lady. She was of medium build, with longish white blond hair tied back rather severely so that it ran down her back. She was wearing a smart but casual coat, jeans, and medium length boots with a couple of inches on the heel and carrying a smart bag. There was something about the way she moved that was very arresting and graceful, and rather reminded me of the ballerinas that used to attend the local ballet school, but she had a fuller, athletic figure. However, I went back to checking my papers, making sure I was ready for the hearing ahead.
There was not a lot to prepare and I had time to kill. The young man and woman were sitting rather placidly outside the courtroom, clearly litigants in person. Courts can be very intimidating places, and I didn’t mind checking if they were OK – of course I had ulterior motives too, but genuinely I didn’t mind.
It turned out they were both foreign – I wasn’t sure of the country or countries of origin at that stage, and the young woman had come along to help translate if necessary, and for a bit of moral support. The young man had got into a spot of bother with a finance company. I was happy to re-assure them about the procedure, and made sure they were OK and he knew how to approach the case. A little later their case was called on, and to my surprise the young man went into court on his own, leaving the woman alone outside. I sensed no harm in striking up a conversation.
I made a guess, and asked her if she was from Poland. Finland was the reply.
She was very, but not impossibly, beautiful, with the most flawless pale skin, exotic high cheek bones and startlingly blue eyes. As far as I could tell she wore no make up. She had the most perfect smile. More than that, she had a very gentle, unassuming manner that was really charming. Her voice was soft and lyrical. She was about 25. We talked about her course (economics, business and languages). We talked about the panoramic view, and I was able to point out some landmarks. We talked about how we relaxed in “down time”, about wine and theatre. She told me about her favourite restaurant in a pleasant suburb (was that a sort of invitation?) and I told her about my favourite café near the court, where I confidently assured her I would be by 1.00 pm when court was finished or adjourned. I learned something of the forests of Finland, and she learned about the art in the beautiful church nearby known as “the Hidden Gem”. Her friend’s case took some time and we did talk quite a lot, in that sort of embarrassed “dare I ask you some more way,” at least from my perspective. We talked about doing yoga and how too much exercise can be bad for you, and her father’s knee injury. We talked about the northern lights and ice hotels.
We talked for maybe 20 or 30 minutes. I wasn’t sure what to do, because I didn’t want to be thought of as The Raccoon Arms’ very own version of Lord Rennard, and I have always been quite shy. I didn’t ask her name and I didn’t ask to see her again, even though I was well and truly smitten. I didn’t want to make her feel awkward.
And then her friend’s case was over and he came out. It was time for her to go and me to get my show on the road. We said our goodbyes, and she walked away down the long and soulless corridor. I watched her go, and then she turned and gave me that lovely smile. I waved and she waved back. Then it was back to reality.
It was no more than half past eleven, and I had no doubt that my case would or should have not taken long. However, I drew the short straw. I got a long-winded and largely incompetent but very obdurate and long-winded opponent and a judge who was charming, gentlemanly, old school and resolutely determined to be indecisive and not to make the swift and final order that the case merited. On and on we went, with lost documents being produced and blind alleys being investigated with minute and polite judicial care. One o’clock loomed. Surely we would break for lunch, as is invariably the case? No. The case spilled over and staggered on like a zombie until about 1.30 with the inevitable unsatisfactory result.
I walked as quickly as possible to the café. It was nearly a quarter to two when I got there. Was there any chance she might have taken up my implied invitation, and then waited? If she had taken it up, I shall never know. I drank my coffee alone, and the rain came. It seems likely that I shall never see her again.
Truly it is said by many, that it is what we don’t do, and what we don’t say, that become the greatest regrets in life.
Fool.
Gildas the Monk
-
October 12, 2014 at 9:42 am -
Fool? No just Human (which I suppose is near enough the same thing most of the time). Lovely way to start my Sunday, thanks Gildas. I’m betting everyone here has their own such story but very few could have written it so well -with so much feeling but without descending into Millsnboonia.
-
October 12, 2014 at 9:55 am -
Others would have sent her a ‘Newmark’ paisley-pyjamad selfie by now !
Better to have loved and lost, as they say.
-
October 12, 2014 at 9:57 am -
Oh, Gildas – if you’re a fool, then you’re not on your own. I’ve got a wardrobe full of T-shirts from that place. We always assume the object of our desire is the most confident person who ever lived and we have exclusive rights on anxiety, but she’s probably thinking the same as you right now. The difference is you have the talent to articulate that feeling. I’ve recently had cause to reflect on a missed opportunity that can never now be realised and it’ll eat away at me for a long time. But you made all the right moves; the worst thing would have been to not even have spoken to her. You did that and you couldn’t have done anymore. And this beautiful, lyrical little article came out of it, so the brief encounter did produce something positive, even if that doesn’t seem like much comfort now.
-
October 12, 2014 at 10:20 am -
Thank you Petunia – from you, high praise indeed
-
October 12, 2014 at 11:03 am -
I see your wardrobe and raise you a charity shop stock room, Petunia! Her name, well her nick name, was ‘Scoobi’ and you could have timed my walk down Highbury Station Rd N1 , away from her and the squat on Roman Way, with a calendar. Even after all these years…I still think of her on occasions.
-
-
October 12, 2014 at 10:44 am -
Excellent post, Sir. I second what my esteemed friend Petunia says above, but perhaps are some of us just destined to swim in the Sea of Missed Opportunities eternally?
It’s the only game in town.http://retardedkingdom.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/faith-hope-chastity.html
-
October 12, 2014 at 11:39 am -
Nah, not a fool but a gentleman, Sir. Ah, bugger.
-
October 12, 2014 at 11:46 am -
Just savour it, Gildas.
These feelings should be enjoyed.
I’m just delighted you captured them so eloquently. -
October 12, 2014 at 12:11 pm -
Thank you all for the kind comments. I wanted to create something gentle and reflective for a Sunday morning, and it seems to have gone OK. However, there is a Post Script to the story, or maybe. It occurred to me this morning that despite its many vices, modern technology and the interweb thing has its virtues too. And even that pernicious thing, Facebook. With a couple of clicks I was able to find someone who seems to fit the description, although the account (like mine) is hardly used and the photo is frustratingly unclear. So, we shall see…
-
October 12, 2014 at 12:20 pm -
‘Got in trouble with a finance company?’ Such things happen to even the most law-abiding of us. It isn’t always a finance company, and sometimes it is the heavy-handed behaviour of the utilities, banks and so on. (Or TV licensing). Some years ago I had a PhD student of Iranian extraction who fell foul of the electricity supplier. He and his wife had rented a flatlet from a heartless landlady (as it happens, of equally foreign origins, in this case, Chinese, although this should not damn the whole of their race). The place was heated exclusively by electricity with a pre-payment meter set to an extortionate rate, and withing a week of a British winter, they realised that the next few months could bankrupt them (the Iranian Tuman having plummetted against the pound due to sanctions). They moved (not a flit) to somewhere else where the walls had better insulation than lace handkerchiefs, and sure enough, bitch ex-landlady was emptying the meter and pocketing the cash, so eventually, a debt collection agency came calling to heir new place, terrified the pair of them, and by dint of threats, extracted a bank card number and started helping themselves to cash the couple could simply not afford.
When I heard, I went crackers. I marched the poor boy off to the CAB (useless) the police (useless) and then to his bank where I read them the riot act and got the money recredited to his account. Then the useless bastards (Barclays) paid it out again, and had to be forcefully reminded of the previous agreement: he wasn’t going to pay, and if we had to go into court to argue the case we would. It took threats of going to the press, moving the bank accounts of several student mates, and a protest outside the bank to make the stupid manager(ess) understand the issue. Then, we took on the debt collection agency AND the electricity company, pointing out that it was rather difficult, wasn’t it, to run up a debt of that magnitude in one month, and that the landlady was responsible for the meter anyway – how can you owe £1300 on a pre-payment meter unless you were emptying it yourself? (And perhaps running a dope farm!)
Thus far, we had avoided solicitors and barristers, but had taken part in a number of shouting matches. In the end, someone at the electricity company saw the sense of it, realised they would lose a court case and have to pay our costs (which we pointed out would be huge, as we had the financial backing of the Embassy – a bluff – and the University – double-bluff). I was rather disappointed, as I was looking forward to my day in court! It taught me a big lesson about how big organisations bully and prey on the weaker end of society.
I was reminded of James Blunt’s ‘You’re Beautiful’ by the main thrust of the posting. -
October 12, 2014 at 12:48 pm -
As others before me have written today, anything but ‘a fool’.
It’s quite natural to ponder the ‘what ifs’ of life. As my mum used to say about ‘things that didn’t happen’, “maybe it’s for the best”.
For one thing, your readers would have had a different (or even no) story to reflect upon.
-
October 12, 2014 at 1:10 pm -
Nice prose Gildas –reminded me a bit of Turgenev’s Hunters Tales with that moment of humanity distilled from the formality of day to day life.
-
October 12, 2014 at 1:21 pm -
I enjoyed your piece as I enjoy your writing, I hope the post script happens for you.
-
October 12, 2014 at 2:44 pm -
I have had many moments where I just let a truly beautiful woman slip away through hesitation or timidness. I am no longer a young man but over the years despite my many failures to communicate with women I have at last learned how to do so. As corny as it sounds I always carry business cards with me, should the conversation flow freely and naturaly from the start I offer my details not too far into the discussion, if it brings a positive exchange in return than you know that the person is not only contactable in the future but worth continuing the aquaintance with. Life is too short to throw away wonderful opportunities when meeting a person who stirs the soul.
-
October 12, 2014 at 3:01 pm -
A good point – I didnt have one on me!!
-
-
October 12, 2014 at 4:13 pm -
I was in the Empire Ballroom in Leicester Square, with a fair load of booze on me, although I must state in my own defence that I usually didn’t stagger (much) until at least ten more bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale.
I moved (well, alright, tottered), down the staircase and along the side of the dance floor, and came face-to-face with the girl of my dreams. Having memorised the old adage ‘Strike while etc.etc.’ a long time back, I asked her to dance, and dance again, and then have a snack. I saw her the next evening, the next day again, and again, and again: and a week later, I kissed her goodbye on the steps of Kings Cross tube station, before I shuffled out towards Heathrow, and on to a B.O.A.C. Boeing 707 heading towards Hong Kong to join a British ship, as I was an Engineer Officer.
Five days ago, we quietly celebrated our forty-seventh wedding anniversary.
You have to take your chances!
-
October 12, 2014 at 7:55 pm -
Brilliant
-
-
October 12, 2014 at 4:15 pm -
Reminds me of ‘Brief Encounter’ but without the Black Fives roaring through Carnforth station leaving opportune smuts. Though I’m not really by nature a cynic, I do sometimes wonder if the imaginary ‘might have been’ is rather more gilded than the real one might have been. Best, perhaps, to enjoy what actually was. Tomorrow may bring other wonderful happenings.
-
October 12, 2014 at 7:56 pm -
Thank you, Engineer – from a man of your insight that is high praise.
-
-
October 12, 2014 at 5:05 pm -
You are not a fool Gildas. I promise (as a man of considerable experience in these matters) you will treasure the memory for decades. One of my most popular fictions on short story sites, Girl In A Blue Dress, tells a highly fictionalised version of a real experience when I was a market trader forty plus years ago. The girl was very pretty and wore a short blue summer dress, her eyes were an intense blue and she had fair hair cut in a bob. If you have heard of Tesla’s radiant energy, we exchanged quite a lot of it in a look when she passed and more when she returned half an hour later. That was all, not a word was exchanged. And so she is ever young in my memory.
And as Johnny Gray, the gypsy who had the next stall observed when the next market day I wondered if I’d see her again, ” If you had got to know her Ian, she might have turned out to be a right mindj”. -
October 12, 2014 at 7:55 pm -
What lovely comments!
-
October 13, 2014 at 11:46 am -
Not a fool a gentleman romantic perhaps.
Who knows maybe she will turn up another time and quite by chance, it’s not like she could not return to the court
I am a great believer in fate and what will be, everything happens for a reason.
So just maybe this story is not over yet and has further milage to travel.
Be ever hopeful. -
October 14, 2014 at 2:20 pm -
Gildas, the Hidden Gem – are you in Manchester?
-
October 15, 2014 at 9:40 am -
I was indeed
-
-
October 16, 2014 at 2:18 am -
Gildas, I do hope that you reconnect with this lovely person who appears to have captured your heart. All the best to you.
{ 26 comments… read them below or add one }