Seeing this picture over at The Mag this week reminded me of something that happened in The Bicycle Arms at the weekend. A bunch of us were having a drink or two around the log fire when my friend Rosey looked in the direction of two embracing love-birds, and chirped “Get a bed” She thought she’d just said it to herself, but as usual when Rosey refuels with chardonnay, words always come out a little louder than intended. “Shoooosh” giggled Sally. “Everyone’s looking at you and in any case, the expression is get a room!” “Well” said Rosey, “they should get a bed-room then” We couldn’t understand why she was being uncharacteristically prudish; after all, she was never one to worry about embarrassing us when she was dating Smacker Sam a while back.
Anyway, she went on to tell us how awkward she felt the other day when she was at the Tate Gallery in London, and rounded a corner to be faced with Rodin’s sculpture The Kiss which bore an uncanny resemblance to the pose being adopted by the amorous couple at the adjacent table. Still unable to fathom out why she was being such a prig, I delved a little deeper. It seems that she was actually with a group of children from her school in her role as classroom assistant when at The Tate, and a couple of the little blighters suggested that the naked female form was Miss Rosey and the man headmaster Mr Rolls! “Ten year olds can be so unkind” she said “and anyway how do they know what I look like in the all-together?”
We all agreed that she should actually be flattered by the suggested likeness, and a few minutes later she was laughing about the unfortunate event. “I wonder if Mr Rolls does look like the chap in the sculpture?” she mused as a grin spread across her face. “I wonder”. “ No Rosey” shouted Gareth “Don’t even think about it!”
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