I had a near run in with not one, but two GOFs this week (for the unenlightened few, this stands for Grumpy Old Fart), which left me feeling not only grumpy but also bummed that I’d left my GOF sniper at home. OK, I don’t really have a GOF sniper but I’m thinking of getting one. The ad in the classifieds will read: sniper needed for ad hoc work, mostly required for mall outings and restaurants. Must be sympathetic to children and mothers. Must be extremely good shot. Must be practically invisible to GOFs. No track record necessary, just a passion for your calling.
I know GOF snipers don’t really exist, but it did get me thinking. You see I obviously don’t look fierce or dangerous or intimidating. I’m sure that Dad’s don’t have problems with GOFs when they take their kids out. I think their masculine disposition seem to communicate “HIGH IN TESTOSTERONE. POSSIBLY OVERSTRESSED. DON’T FUSS WITH ME.” Now that I’ve realised that I clearly look nicer than what I really am, I have decided try out some new approaches.
Option one: Dress as a ninja and when people bother me or my kids, I’ll adopt a squatting stance with hands in front of face (martial arts style), hissing loudly at them while squinting viciously. The downside to this approach is that I think ninja suits are quite hot, which is fine for winter but not so much for summer. Also, it might scare the kids, which isn’t the idea. Upside: black is slimming.
Option two: Dress as Goth, complete with new tattoos and lots of dark nail varnish and lipstick. Summer suit will include fishnet tights (ventilation) and in winter I’ll wear stockings with sculls on them. Big, buckled, biker boots mandatory. The tats will have to seem convincing though. No naff flowers or butterflies and stuff. Perhaps a merciless looking dragon on my forearm (note: will have to roll up long sleeves in winter so it’s visible) and love/hate on my knuckles will do the trick. Ooh, I could get a few piercings too. Yes, this one could work. I’m absolutely positive Goths and Punks take no schtick from GOFs.
Option three: Dress as witch (again; black, slimming, BIG plus) and when GOFs give me uphill I’ll wiggle my fingers at them, flutter my eyes and mutter curse sounding words under my breath. I might include some real curses and cunningly disguised swear words, “like eff you loser”, and “up your’s lame-o”. This might not be overly convincing and I also don’t know if I could keep a straight face. Not sure if the pointy hat is at all fetching either.
Option four: Dress in flowing white linen, as in esoteric, peace-loving, Gandhi type. This could really work well for me (i.e. fake the inner calm till I make the inner calm) and I’m sure to un-nerve the living shit out of the offending GOF. When they start whining I could turn round, hug them hard and say something like: blessings oh troubled one, please contain your venomous speech, I have undamaged goods with me that wish to remain untarnished by your brutal energy. Heaven knows I’d give this a shot just for the hell of it!
Option five: Dress as mad scientist. I already have the corduroys and as my hair’s natural tendency is a lot like Einstein’s, I’m half way there. When the GOF starts up I could just look their way, glaze over and calmly say “do you know most imbeciles talk before they think. Now where did I leave my potbellied pig”? The final touch would be to pluck a non-existent piece of lint of the GOFs shirt, giggle, nod, and then walk away. If that doesn’t leave them disarmed then I just don’t know. I could complete the deranged genius look by wearing my bra (PEP, not La Senza) on top of my chunky jersey. Wicked.
If any of these have already been tried and tested, please let me know which one works best. Am desperate.
No comments:
Post a Comment