The P Word

So you see it all started when my ex partner Patrick purchased a pendant for my birthday.  He purchased it in Paris while he was passing a small shop selling peculiar knickknacks.  It was a perfectly preserved petal of some kind, maybe a petunia, set into amber.

He said, “It’s Kosher Pamela.”

Meaning the amber, but I had my doubts, I thought it was probably plastic.  I mean how could a petal become perfectly pressed into a piece of amber?

He said, “ It’s a symbol of our love, umm love”

I thought it was pretty and petite, not a perfect presentation of our love but a nice thought, and I was pleased.

He said, “Put it on babe.”

So I did, and it fit perfectly.

About two weeks later, or you may call it a fortnight if it pleases you, the problems started.

He accused me of being preoccupied with the letter P, yes he presumed as much.  Pathetic!  I thought, but those were not his exact words.

He said, “Darling, what’s been wrong with you lately?”

I pondered his proclamation and asked “Patrick, perhaps you could explain, I can’t penetrate your meaning?”

He said, “Sweetheart, you can’t stop using words that begin with P”

I laughed, “You mean I seem preoccupied with the letter P, that is preposterous, pleb”

He said, “ See, see, you just called me a pleb!”

“Short for plebeian”, I proclaimed, “and I would never put you in such a position, pleb”

He said, “Damn it women you’ve did it again”

I said “Perhaps you mean, done it again, Patrick?”

I mean, there is proper grammar, and then there is the pointless butchery of the language.  Use the proper term, say what you mean or problems will arise.  Communication is problematic at the best of times, performing pernicious grammatical errors, I mean… it’s just not polite is it.

He said, “ I know what I meant”

I said “Ahh but your performance was below par, I couldn’t perceive your meaning precisely”

Quite pointedly he had failed to prosper with his purchase of the English language, his possession of his native parlance, his patois, was not on point.

He said, “You’re taking the piss yeah”

“Presumably you feel I am providing you with a falsehood, a perjury of prodigious proportions?” I asked.

He said, “What?”

Patrick never was blessed with a phenomenal capacity for perceptiveness, his personality was not profuse in the cranial department.  Ohh he was hot though, practically perfect pecs!

“You are proscribing to me a positively Pinocchio proboscis?” I sighed back at him.

He said, “What the fuck are you saying?”

I must admit, then I behaved quite precociously, petulant and pert.

“Well you can just… piss off” I proclaimed.

He said, “With pleasure, you pedant!”

Now I have proscribed him from me, and prohibited him from my home, and I am pleased, he was, when all is said and done, a practical and perfect paragon of a pleb, a prime prat.

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Lee Douglas

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