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A Viking in my Dustbin. #83. HAPPY BUS.

One thing that changed immediately and positively in my new life with my new lady friend, was that working and hanging out with TV types was no longer a problem as she was one of them. Not only that, she was an Art Junkie, a big plus with yours truly.

She loved art and had originally trained as an art teacher; in fact she lived and breathed it; classic, contemporary, any medium, any form. And she had the same off-the-wall sense of humour; and this all came wrapped up nice, sexy and wearing glasses.

She worked upstairs in a management department. I never really got a grasp on doing what exactly as she didn’t seem the clerk or management type. She seemed more a ‘guerilla,’ like Nige and me and our mates, but I could have been wrong. I imagined her as a sort of typist anarchist, laying punctuation land-mines.

All this and to boot she had a great and enormous dirty laugh that could quiet a room and excite a male water buffalo. (Luckily there weren’t too many of those about in Leeds at the time).

In the bar that first lunchtime, much to my surprise, we hit it off more or less straight away. She was unusual; not the average telly-girl, all blonde, pearls and boobs before brains.

Best of all, she put up with my crazy dread panic attacks. Even better than that, she loved like it was going out of fashion. That suited me fine; as for months I’d been out of action, fearing I’d have a panic attack. Unfortunately the apprehension made it worse.

“What’s wrong John?”
“Nothing.”
“Why the pause.”
“Excuse me darling, sorry, but I can’t let go of the bed-head!”

The other noteworthy thing that struck me about her straight away was that she was no shrinking violet, just the opposite. She had a really strong personality and, as I was to discover was brave and fearless; whereas, at the time I was scared of my own shadow; a complete mess of nerves and spaghetti.

In truth, we were an odd couple, a complete dysfunctional fit right from the start. Yet between us we had a crackle of energy that everyone recognized. She could fence wits with Nigel all night long and anyone else I knew, it was great. She wasn’t just a pal and a lover, but an ally.

As we spent more and more time together, my guilt over my break-up with Sue faded, as Lynda moved into my life with the energy and impact of a bespectacled meteor, from the planet WOW! I was blown away.

Her fearlessness impressed me no end. She told me once how she’d worked for an executive who constantly (in his office and out of earshot of others) made sexist and lewd remarks to her when she was in his office alone with him. One day she’d had enough so next time when she stood before him and before he opened his dirty sneaky mouth, she started unbuttoning her blouse whilst he sat there in his chair, his jaw on his desk no doubt thinking what a lucky laddie he was.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong. She told him if he didn’t stop talking to her in that way she’d pull open the door and scream for help! He lost his nerve quickly as she started to remove her arms from her sleeves and never said another suggestive word to her. That took some guts; on the other hand, I wonder where I could find a secretary like that?

A Viking in my Dustbin. #83. HAPPY BUS.

John Sunderland

New York, United States

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Falling again……..

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  • Emraldae
  • John Sunderland
  • Edward Denyer
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