“You’re on a mahogany ‘Weidling’. A flat bottomed type of boat that dates back 2,000 years to your Celtic ancestors?” She smiled and nodded. “Of course we know this vessel as a ‘punt’ and it is ideal for transportation along rivers such as the Cam or the Cherwell” (at this I faked a spit and she laughed).
The ‘planks’, which run down the middle, were traditionally separated by an old penny. When punting in Cambridge, we stand on the ’till’ (otherwise known as the Cambridge end). In Oxford they punt from inside the boat at the opposite end (the Oxford end). Clearly a very foolish thing to do!”
“Clearly!” she replied with her cheeks flushing red and her eyes glistening with all the exuberance of youth.
“Am I keeping you from your boyfriend?” I inquired.
“You are…” She strained to see my little name tag the punting company made us wear, “Charles! I should warn you he’s in the SAS and will most likely kill you!”
“I didn’t realize the SAS were in the habit of pushing their targets into punts to dispose of them?”
“Oh Peter? Oh he’s not my boyfriend! He’s my… Fly squatter! No, my boyfriend wears a balaclava! With two round holes for eyes!”
“Does he have one for his mouth?”
“I don’t think so… Should he?” she said.
“I think so. How do you understand him otherwise?” I said.
“Well the truth is we don’t talk much!” She leant forward and puts her hand up as if to whisper, “He’s too busy shagging me. In fact he shags me so much I do believe I’m on the anti-terrorists ‘watch list’ because I’m seen as a threat to national securddy” at this she fell back and started laughing.
It’s hard to put into words how sexy she was. And I do mean sexy in the truest sense of that word. Dynamic, natural, zestful and utterly in love with life. The word sexy has such a variety of contentions nowadays; it’s hard to recognize its inherent beauty. Perhaps it’s that very temporal quality that drives men to want to possess it?
“I myself considered joining the SAS but reconsidered at the final stages.” I said enjoying every moment with this breathtaking woman.
“Why?” She said with her eyes closed in the autumn sunshine.
“On account that I’m a pacifist.”