Seline and the Fifty Shades
In the build up to Eric‘s pubishing his first novel, we thought we’d share one of his short stories and, considering the film they realised this weekend, what better choice than one involving Eric‘s famous character Seline and her experience of Fifty Shades of Grey! If you wish to read more of Seline’s adventures check out Seline’s World Humorous Short Stories for A Grey Day.
Don’t worry the story isn’t raunchy but if you think you may be offend please don’t click to read more!
My bedrooms a mess. I don’t mean it’s untidy although it is, but it’s ages since it’s been decorated. The papersgone all lumpy and there are some funny marks where I squashed the spiders and then there was Senga’s monkey. You can imagine the mess that made. It should have had a nappy on. Did I tell you about Senga’s monkey? Well if not I’ll tell you another time ‘cos I don’t want to get distracted from the point what was that my room needed a spring clean even though it weren’t spring. So I thought,paint. I’ll get rid of all that horrible paper and paint the walls a nice colour. Senga thought it was a good idea too and she said our local supermarketdid paint and I should bring home a colour card. So I popped down the shop and there just at the door were these colour cards 50 shades of grey. Grey’s a nice colour, it goes with anything so I picked one up but that was all they had,just grey.
I asked the assistant in case I were missing something.
“Excuse me,” I said, “But have you got any red?”
She put down her scanny thing what she was scanning some tins of chocolate with. “Red? Red what?” she said.
“I thought I’d have some red to go with the grey,” I said, and waved my colour card in her face.
She looked at first like she had bitten a lemon or possibly a lime cos her face went all funny but then she gave a big smile and said, “Ha, ha, ha, very funny, very good,” and she went back to her scanning.
Well! What would you have made of that? It showed that she was a very rude woman. A woman whose rudeness was up in the air above the clouds like in the altosphere or something.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I asked you a question with extreme civility. If you do not know the answer then please say so. Laughing is not right. Laughing at people is absolutely the… not right.At all. See?”
Her mouth was hanging open wide enough to stuff my colour card in. “Sorry,” she said. “Sorry, err… what wasthe question? Exactly?”
“I asked you if you’d got any red.”
She looked at me a moment and then she gave a big wink and said, “I certainly have read it. Finished it in bedlast night.”
“Did you,” I said. “I prefer Agatha Christie myself. More words you know.”
“I’m going to give it to my boyfriend,” she said. “What do you think he’ll do?”
“I expect he’ll study it and decide what’s best. But you should make up your own mind,” I said. “You know best.”
“You could be right.” She nodded,then looked behind her and whispered. “Never knew there were so many things youcould do with a feather duster.” Then she giggled.
“Yes,” I said. I could see it were going to be one of those peculiar conversations some people like to have. You know the kind, where people say crazy things for no particular reason and expect a sensible answer. Like they ask you if you know what the time is when all you are doing is deciding what chocolates to buy at the checkout and you can see very well that the person doing the asking has a watch on their wrist.Although, right enough, I suppose their watch could have stopped and they just wanted to reset it to the correct time in case they were late for an important job interview at Glaxo or Greigs.
“I’m going to use a paint brush myself,” I said.
She gave that silly giggle again.“It’ll be a big one, I bet,” she said.
“No, I find the medium ones are better. Means you can get into all the little nooks and crannies.”
Well the woman just about exploded in a fit of the giggles. Then she got the hiccups and slapped me on the shoulder and said. “You are a… one.”
It’s best to humour these people I’ve found. “Yes, I am the one,” I said. “And you can be the one too.”
This made her giggle and hiccup more and she was drawing attention to herself and therefore to myself which I didn’t like. I like to blend in and not be standoutish. I get annoyed with people who make spectacles of themselves.
“I’ll take this anyway, dear,” Isaid and I put the 50 shades card in my handbag and moved away from her.
“You’ll be wanting some scooshy cream,” she said.
“Yes of course,” I said. Honestly,she wasn’t half jumping around. Obviously couldn’t concentrate on anything. Probably got that ADD thing I saw a programme about just the other night.
“I think you may have tension deficit,” I said. “And I will leave my food shopping to later thank you verymuch. But do you have a stripping knife?”
“Wow,” she said. “You really go all the way, don’t you. And you look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth,if you don’t mind me saying so. No offence meant.”
“None taken, I’m sure,” I said.There she was back on the food again. I wasn’t sure what to do. I mean I’m very sorry for people with mental tissues what you hear about these days but I really didn’t want to get involved with this loony in the middle of a supermarket. I stepped back some more, trying not to make it obvious. You just don’t know what they’re going to do next. “Well bye-bye, dear,” I said. She said bye-bye, waggled her finger at me, hiccupped and turned back to her scanning.
That woman needed help. A supervisor passed by with her head in the air so I grabbed her arm. “Excuse me,” I said. “That assistant over there needs help.”
She looked over. “No, no, Jean’s very competent. She knows what she’s doing.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” I said. “Her knowledge of paint is very limited.”
Of course you’ll have guessed what happened when I got home and looked at the colour card. It weren’t a card at all it was a strange book. Well, I didn’t know where to put myself and after reading it I were even more confused. Some bits I had to read twice and even then I weren’t sure if I’d got it right. I showed it to Senga but she said she’d read it already and her crowd down the PDSA had been talking about nothing else for days. I still don’t see what paint has to do with it.