Candour And The Search For Married Bliss, Or An Address Quite Near It


As a writer of no repute, whose investigative techniques were found wanting during a recent experiment outside the local railway station, it may not surprise you to know that my courting history has enjoyed a certain level of difficulty and now requires an element of tweaking: let me elucidate.

In my youth I saw a girl in a bar, nicely figured if that can convey a sense of her beauty without being unnecessarily invasive, and I walked up to her and said, “Alright, given that we don’t know each other, I only speak one language and have a career which is poorly paid and offers no prospect of promotion, are you willing to cast aside all common sense and agree to marry me, accept life in the slow lane, and learn to peel vegetables without the aid of modern appliances.”

There may have been a pause for reflection before the girl said “No” but it was not discernible. No problem with that. At the “Biro and Stationary Sales Technique Conference” I was taught that every “No” takes you nearer to a “Yes,” so, unbowed, I moved on in my search for a bride.

In a coffee shop I saw a girl who had clearly been assembled with some care, and seemed to have a similar sense of values to mine acquired, in my case, by staring out of the window for long hours without agenda or urgency. She had the vacancy about her which suggested she used the same self-development programme.

Pausing briefly to straighten my non-existent tie, I walk up to her and say, “Alright, given that we don’t know each other, I only speak one language and have a career which is poorly paid and offers no prospect of promotion, I wondered if you were willing to cast aside all common sense and agree to marry me, accept life in the slow lane, and learn to peel vegetables without the aid of modern appliances.”

This time there was an even less discernible pause between my hope for her blind and total devotion and the irritated rejection of my offer. That is just life, or purgatory, depending on your point of view. Things moved on and I accepted a sentence of bachelorhood, sausage rolls, and a diet of less than challenging romantic comedies, all crammed in between sleep and a job which didn’t begin to disclose to me, or anyone else for that matter, what my “Core” abilities might have been, apart from being able to say “Sorry” a lot, which is a skill I have polished over time.

A number of decades pass; although there is some disagreement between my doctor and the internet dating site I have now joined over how many that is exactly, in the hope of sharing an old age full of arguments, remote control wars and the eternal battle between laziness and the need to clean the fridge. Once more I have reached out to the opposite sex. Here is the blurb in my profile.

“Accepting that we don’t know each other and the above photograph is not a recent likeness or any likeness at all if truth be told, I speak only one language and have a career which is poorly paid, unblemished by promotion and light on achievements, I wondered if any lady on this, or any other planet capable of supporting the human species where English is the spoken language and sport may be either played or watched from armchairs, would be willing to cast aside all common sense and marry me, accept life in the slow lane, and learn to peel vegetables without the aid of modern appliances.”

To date I have had no replies, which just goes to show the internet can mirror real life. Tomorrow I am going to update my profile and enlist the help of one, Ernest Shackleton, in the photograph department, which I’m told is a key appointment in the internet dating industry. He knew a thing or two about getting out of tricky situations and looked quite dashing in an “Afternoon-tea” kind of way. Apparently, he was also resourceful in all circumstances, especially if experienced in sub-zero temperatures, which I’ve “enjoyed” a lot of myself, socially speaking. Let’s see if “Shackers” can help me get out of Bachelor Alley and into a nice apartment on Marriage Avenue. I’ll keep you posted.

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About Peter Wells aka Countingducks

Trying to remember what my future is
This entry was posted in character, creative writing, Fiction, humour, Peter Wells, Romance, writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

58 Responses to Candour And The Search For Married Bliss, Or An Address Quite Near It

  1. For heaven’s sakes, what woman in her right mind would fall for that line unless they understood your great sense of humor and ready wit? It’s their loss. Do keep us posted on what Shakers does for you in the “reinvented photos” dept. You never cease to entertain and amuse me… Hysterical! 😆

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Al says:

    You are a maestro at chasing away the Monday morning blues, Peter. One of your funniest yet. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must clean off the monitor where I spit coffee on it.

    Like

  3. Ina says:

    I would immediately say yes. Of course! 🙂

    Like

  4. kim881 says:

    Thanks for blasting away a rainy bank holiday Monday with your hilarious jottings. Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. joey says:

    Superb. My favorite? “Things moved on and I accepted a sentence of bachelorhood, sausage rolls, and a diet of less than challenging romantic comedies, all crammed in between sleep and a job which didn’t begin to disclose to me, or anyone else for that matter, what my “Core” abilities might have been, apart from being able to say “Sorry” a lot, which is a skill I have polished over time.”

    Like

  6. davidprosser says:

    Fingers crossed for you Peter. I can recommend marriage especially where a Lancashire peeler is used rather than the French variety.still, each to their own. Just look up Ina above who’s ready to accept your heartfelt plea.
    Hugs

    Like

  7. Yes! Please do keep us posted! Someone is bound to say “yes” to that question eventually! And I want to hear what follows when the said “yes” happens! Baited breath here! 😊

    Like

  8. elizaberrie says:

    How would this work if I used this line on you? Given that we don’t know each other, I only speak one language (two more in my head) and have a career which is poorly paid and offers no prospect of promotion, I wondered if you were willing to cast aside all common sense and agree to marry me, accept life in the slow lane. I already know how to peel vegetables without the aid of modern appliances and expect you to do the same.

    Fingers crossed!- Elizabeth

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I’m terribly afraid I would be intrigued and at least willing to share a passing drink. Just to get my grins, if for no other reason. Delightful, Peter.

    Like

  10. Do you mind sharing this bloke’s email address? I need to give him some advice: Change the pick-up line!

    Like

  11. Carrie Rubin says:

    “every ‘No’ takes you nearer to a ‘Yes'”—True for so many things in life!

    Very enjoyable read.

    Like

  12. Eagerly await the results. For my part, I would have certainly been charmed by your brutal honesty, sense of humor and superior writing skills. I may have shied away from the whole life in the slow lane bit. Let’s add some goofy, eccentric adventures like perusing thrift stores or plundering local malls in search of free samples and you would be nearly irresistible…but don’t tell my husband!!

    Like

  13. ksbeth says:

    if shackers can’t get you out of your slump, no one can. and as a backup, you could invest in a veg-o-matic. i think that’s really the secret that saw his and crew through the rough patches.

    Like

  14. I must agree with another commentor… who is falling for that line anyway. Oh gosh I was so entertained with this post my friend. I can’t wait to know the results. And don’t make us wait to long for it either lol.

    Like

  15. LRose says:

    You are a braver man than I, Gunga Din, as the saying sometimes goes. And as a result, will probably always remain incarcerated in singlehood.

    Like

  16. Another very amusing post…however, maybe a new modus operandi is required and let’s hope that Shackers – and I loved the description ‘who looked quite dashing in an afternoon tea sort of way’….can help to change this predicament. As for the peeling of vegetables..I would say that definitely has to go….Janet:)

    Like

  17. A wonderful story, Peter, featuring another fabulously dysfunctional character (aren’t we all!). That said, it does make you wonder how we ever find rewarding relationships. A great read!

    Like

  18. pmillhouse says:

    I do want to meet the girl who says yes, Mr. Wells.

    Liked by 1 person

  19. DCTdesigns says:

    “every ‘No’ takes you nearer to a ‘Yes’”- Love it and am currently living it as well. Aside from the peeling I don’t actually have an issue with this relationship pitch. Perhaps if you offer to do the cooking, or simply the peeling, the problem will be mitigated. 😉

    Like

  20. gotham girl says:

    This is just so darn EXCELLENT!!

    Like

  21. Even car and insurance salesmen know not to stray anywhere near the truth if their “no’s” are going to lead them closer to the eventual “I’m not sure…” (which they always hear as a resounding “YES!”). 😉 Better luck next life…

    Like

  22. Haha this is fantastic! I think I would have said yes just for a laugh 😉

    Like

    • Now that Beth has come up with that fantastic idea of a veg-o-matic, even the threat of drudgery has been removed allowing you to enjoy life in the slow lane without the fear of drudgery, excluding those irritating piles of laundry and the vacuuming which cuts so cruelly over the soundtrack of the film being watched on television at the most unfortunate moment. For Instance, “Will you marry me” the beautiful lady looks up to our hero and ZZZZZZZZZZZ the infernal machine has entered the room and driven all composure and the ability to day-dream away and robbing us of her answer. That is why it is such a powerful weapon in domestic warfare.

      Like

  23. Lady E says:

    Good luck, mate! (is pretty much all I can say) 😉 xx

    Like

  24. Mo Galway says:

    You, Mr. Shackers want-to-be, are very talented. I would gleefully read your book! I can’t marry you either though. I am happily married with children and a grandchild. I hope you will be content with being followed. (Oh my that sounds off putting, doesn’t it. )

    Like

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