This post was submitted quite a while ago by a blogger who has since left the blogging world to spend more time with her family.  M. was my very first Guest in Jest guest and I’m really happy she agreed to let me use this post she sent before she left the blogosphere.


Adventures in Discernment

In a  busy lobby of a swanky London hotel,  several groups of  vastly different occupations are gathered,  each at their own tables sipping this cocktail and that £300 scotch or that new trendy hipster “not-tail” (It’s a cocktail? But it isn’t?  You know?)

There are a few conventions going on here this weekend,  physicists , business men, elitist groups of who-knows -what-they-do-but-they’re-insanely-rich.

The usual.

At the hotel bar in the swanky hotel lobby sits a stunning, breath-takingly beautiful woman.
Blonde,  full lips, almond eyes, an air of mystery…er…floating around her. You know the type. The type other women hate on sight and the type men tell their mates they’ve chatted up when in reality, are terrified to even step within her small circumference of space.

So. She’s minding her own business,  tip-tap-tapping on her phone.
One of the physicists bunch looks over at her.

He’s mesmerised.

He is, however a massive arsehole.

All his friends and co-workers think so but he’s a rare combination of a formidable scientific mind, incredible Alpha Male good looks and prowess, the body of someone who spends far too long at the gym and the allure to women of prosecco flavoured chocolates.
No one could stand him but everyone fawned over him. Get the type?  Right. Moving on.

He was, in a word, irresistible.
But an arsehole nevertheless.

He downs his pretentious, insanely expensive drink, and with a quick (probably unnecessary ) running of the hand through his thick , dark locks, he swaggers over to the gorgeous, unsuspecting creature at the bar.

On his short walk there he thinks, I’m not particularly interested in getting her into bed (I mean,  it’s  BOUND to happen) I just want to mess around with her head a bit. She’s probably as thick as two planks (you know, dumb)

He slides into the seat beside her. Leans one elbow on the bar and says,

“Good evening. Can I get you a drink and a little stimulating conversation? ”

Stimulating. What an arse.

She flips her hair around and looks at him. Wow. He’s gorgeous. She has a little time, why bloody not.

“Why not?  What was this stimulation you had in mind?” She asks, coyly peering over her drink as she finishes the last drop gracefully.

He’s feeling smug.

“I thought you might want to talk about the recent advances in thought regarding the question as to where astrophysical neutrinos come from, being that extremely high energy neutrinos are predicted to result from the collisions of cosmic rays with photons in the Cosmic Microwave Background radiation that pervades the universe.
And then perhaps we can impossibly link that  to the attempt at proving mathematically that gauge theories with spontaneous symmetry are renormalisable?”

What a prick.

He sits back self satisfied. Sips his scotch and licks his lips at her. (At her? How does someone even do that?)

She looks him up and down. Sighs internally and takes her tiny drink straw, seductively playing it around her tongue.

He looks at his watch. Crap. Almost time for the keynote speech.

“Listen,” he says trying to vaguely mask his condescension. “I have an important physics seminar to attend and…”

“I’ll walk with you, ” she says in silky tones.

Never turning down an offer to be seen with the most gorgeous woman in sight, he pseudo-chivalrously helps her dismount her bar stool and takes his first few steps a fraction behind her checking out her…well you know how he is by now..

“You are sooooo clever, ” she states as they saunter like two beautiful gazelles towards the conference room.

Has to be a hooker,  he thinks .

“I am. I really am.” He chortles slightly at his own awesomeness.

“Let me ask you something, ” she says, coyly glancing  his way.

Oh this should be good,  he’s thinking.

“Please do.”

“What shape is deer poo?”

He stops still. What did she just say?

She turns back to see where he is and he quick – jogs two steps to catch up to her.

“I…uh…I don’t…,” am I STAMMERING? He shakes it off.

“Hmmm, and how about cow poo? Do you know the average shape and colour?” she says with utmost severity.

“I mean, I…I suppose…,”

“Mmhmmm, and let’s talk about dog poo, or maybe cat, mouse, lion poo? How about the poo of the extremely rare Northern Hairy Nosed Wombat?” She innocently bats her lashes.

He didn’t even bother trying this time.

“I have no idea.” he finally says, raising his arms in mock surrender.

Just then, he looks down at the belt loop on her skin – tight pencil skirt. A name tag. Oh god. If only I hadn’t been staring elsewhere for the last 10 minutes…he wants to slap his own forhead with his palm. He doesn’t. He swears under his breath, unintelligably.

“Are you…?”

Eleanora Kalona starts to walk into the conference room ready to take her place at the podium to give her much anticipated keynote speech.

His mouth is actually hanging open.

She super -model swerves back towards him and gives him her most bitingly disparaging look.

“Then how do you expect to discuss the intricacies of astro and quantum physics when you don’t know shit?”

21 thoughts on “Guest in Jest #27 M.

    1. The ending was based on the idiom “You don’t know shit” which means you know nothing. Since he had to admit he didn’t know about the attributes of various types of poo, it was obvious that he didn’t know shit! 😉

      Liked by 1 person

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