We had to do 250 words on a stereotype in a totally different situation, I chose the old fashioned, elderly lady.....
Renate Jones is seventy three years old, but not elderly.
And she also has a secret life. On Tuesday afternoons she entertains gentleman
callers in her Mayfair apartment.
The gentlemen enter
the apartment and walk through to the drawing room. The lights are low, the heavy curtains drawn.
All the chairs are pushed back against the linen lined walls. The gentleman
takes their seats expectantly. The heavy smell of expensive cigars pervades the
air and competes with Renate’s exotic perfume. Renate’s very good friend Amelie sits by an elderly
record player. At three thirty exactly she puts the needle onto the record.
Today it is Ravel’s Bolero. This is Renate’s cue. She enters, sashaying on five
inch heels. The gentlemen puff away on their cigars like a row of miniature
steam trains anxious to leave the platform and head towards the nearest tunnel.
Renate’s flesh coloured stockings on skinny white legs are held up by a red
lacy suspender belt. Her brassiere matches the belt. Her shrivelled breasts
rest gently in each cup like small dough-like dumplings. She is twirling the
end of a black feather boa, draped across her pale shoulders, the end in her
hand swings round and round. The gentlemen’s eyes follow as if hypnotised. The
smell of her perfume is getting stronger as the air in the room heats up. She
turns her back and coyly glances over her shoulder, the end of the boa drawn
across her lower face, her heavily mascaraed eyes fluttering seductively. With
just the slightest of hesitance ( her left hip joint is new) she twists and
turns and then suddenly drops her head down and peers at the gentleman from
between her knees offering a view of her wrinkled, grey buttocks. She raises,
turns, curtsies and leaves the room. A collective sigh from the gentlemen.
Silently, they troop out along the passage and leave the apartment. Amelie
removes the needle from the record and goes and puts the kettle on for tea.
Another sensational afternoon.
Wonderful! My favourite bits: the new hip, and, 'The gentlemen puff away on their cigars like a row of miniature steam trains.' Brilliant, I love it!
ReplyDelete