November 11, 2011 § 34 Comments
Yesterday a friend dropped by unexpectedly with a present. I haven’t had a present for months and months – fewer presents than one once engendered is yet another wistful nail in a plankton’s coffin – and it brought tears to the eyes because it was so thoughtful and touching, and I am not one normally given to lachrymosity. It’s not that I really mind rarely receiving presents. Like compliments, any presents given to my children are for the most part more meaningful now than any dealt out to me.
The present turned out to be a little clutch of hot drink tokens for my local cafe. I can’t tell you how much pleasure they gave me. It’s pathetic, isn’t it, but my daily latte is my extravagant, illicit treat. It’s the only money I really spend on myself regularly, and I justify it because it gives me just so much pleasure even if it does make me jittery. (First rule of planktonhood: extract as much pleasure out of the small things in life as possible because, children aside, the good big stuff sometimes feels a bit thin on the ground.) A few free lattes are even better.
The tokens came in wrapping paper with a chocolate bar which in itself never goes amiss but this one has been cornily if cleverly packaged in a pink box and is called Boyfriend Bar. I know I am being manipulated by the marketing men but it brought a smile to my face. On it, it says, with pale pink hearts between the words: Want one. Got one. Need one. Got a Spare one. You want my one. Can’t stop wanting one. Quite fancy a new one. I know the right one. Like a good-looking one. What about a funny one. Would have to be a rich one. How about your one.
To which this plankton’s responses are, respectively: Too fucking right I do. If only. Are you joking me? Give me a break, I’d be happy with just one let alone a goddamn spare. I haven’t got one for you to covet. Why do you think I am writing this blog every single day? Fancy one full stop, regardless of the “quite” and the “new”. I do indeed, or at least think I do, but of course we don’t always go for the right one, do we? Yes, although now my age and status is rendering me marginally less superficial with any luck, I am working on this one so that good-looking becomes less of a consideration than it once was when I was in more of a position actually to get a good-looking one. Top of the list of priorities! No, just solvent will do. I am not in the business of considering, let alone stealing, other women’s men – dread phrase – end of.
Anyway, in the absence of what it says on the tin, sorry, box, ie. a boyfriend, I am now going to guzzle the bar.
There again. Maybe not. Or I’ll grow so fat I’ll never get one.