Thursday, November 16, 2006

A Grimm Tale


At least Cinderella had no expectations of going to the Ball.

She knew she was staying at home so she didn't have to worry about the fact that her nails were more ragged than her work clothes. Once she'd finished cleaning the house, she could collapse in a tired heap by the fire, probably nibbling on cheese and having a crafty swig of the cooking sherry. She certainly didn't have to juggle a tight timetable of showers, depilation, hair appointments as late in the day and close to the start of the evening as possible, and she would have had to do that because being a fairy tale babe she'd be bound to have long thick hair intent on obeying gravity, it's an occupational hazard.

It mattered not that the bags under her eyes would not have made it past the Ryanair check-in desk. Even if she didn't have time to lay in a darkened room whilst the chilled Optrex disposable masks did their stuff, a wave of her Fairy Godmother's YSL Touche Eclat wand would have her looking radiant and refreshed in seconds.

Running around the locality collecting, begging ( and if I don't pull my finger out, stealing) raffle prizes was certainly not anywhere on her agenda nor did she have to arrive at the venue a good half hour before anyone else to ensure the table settings had been arranged correctly, place the menu and acknowledgement cards which she'd sat up half the previous night designing, and display the raffle prizes in an appealing manner. Alright, maybe she'd not made trays of pinwheel hors d'oeuvres either but had she thought about it? Huh, had she?

She didn't have the fear that her dress wouldn't fit; that she hadn't taken it to the dry-cleaners since last year ( nothing that a few carefully-aimed squirts of scent couldn't hide, besides after a few glasses of wine they wouldn't notice the mildew round the bottom) or that someone would realise it was the same one she'd been recycling for the last 4 years; or the dilemma whether to opt for the peacock blue sari from 5 years ago which was in danger of becoming a throw for the sofa if it didn't get another wearing soon but could she rely on her own folding abilities and a few safety pins? She wouldn't want to come unravelled when dancing the Jitterbug ( Wham! version) with the local MP.

And all Cinderella had to do was peel a few spuds and sweep a couple of sooty fireplaces every day. It's not like she worked for a living and still hadn't caught up on the backlog from her few feeble days away the previous week. Her journey home wasn't held up by roadworks or the masses gathering together to witness the switching on of the Christmas Lights.

She even got to wear Stripper slippers, which is probably the thing which irks me most.
Bloody Cinderella and her oh-so-perfect-goodie-goodie-bloody Fairy Godmother and her pumpkins. She got to leave at midnight. She didn't have the task of rounding up the drunks and persuading them to leave their drinks/ her bottom alone/ and get in their taxis, collecting up the discarded dickie-bows, handbags, raffle prizes, knickers ( actually, they were mine and I still haven't ever told that story), pay the disco and the caterers and remember to pick up the collection money.
God help Prince Charming if he dared to show his face!

22 Comments:

Blogger Ces said...

Oh my God, Cherry Pie. Start writing a novel. Why are you not with the NANOWRITE group? I love everything you write!

7:07 pm  
Blogger Pete said...

the knickers sound like a good post..................

7:21 pm  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

knickers and stripper slippers?

i could be prince charming honest i could!

10:52 pm  
Blogger andrea said...

Any Prince Charming worth his salt would consider himself lucky (especially if your knickers turned up in his pocket). There is a downside to the Cinderella story, though: the dreaded pumpkin trick. The last thing you'd want to do is turn all orange and puffy at midnight.

12:48 am  
Blogger Keshi said...

Prince Charming? 'What' is that???!!!

Keshi.

1:59 am  
Blogger kj said...

This comment has been removed by the author.

5:49 am  
Blogger kj said...

let me try this again:

oh, cherry pie, compelling story teller, are you really back? come tell me it's so.

:)

5:50 am  
Blogger Dave said...

I'm the sort of bloke who would always notice mildew round the bottom.

Although I'm too much of a gentlemen to mention it.

7:55 am  
Blogger Mark Gamon said...

About that knickers story. You KNOW it's better not to bottle things up. I think you should share. We're a very sympathetic audience, you know...

6:20 pm  
Blogger Melora said...

I can tell that you haven't watched Cinderella (the Disney version) lately. I have (heavy sigh), and I can tell you that Cinderella would collapse in a sobbing heap if faced with all those tasks. Sure, she was a whiz at laundry, floors, and cooking, but bottom pinching drunks and traffic jams would completely overset her, poor dear. Sounds like quite an event!

3:45 pm  
Blogger gautami tripathy said...

You writing style is just perfect!

5:55 pm  
Blogger Within Without said...

I DO want to hear the knickers story, really I do...

10:34 pm  
Blogger Sharon J said...

These men and their desire to hear the knickers story... dirty old men, that's what they are! Mark included! Tsk!

10:51 pm  
Blogger Mark Gamon said...

Guilty as charged. But in my defence, CP didn't have to mention the knickers in the first place. I think I've been entrapped :)

10:23 am  
Anonymous cream said...

Charming storytelling, Cherrybabe!

3:17 pm  
Blogger homo escapeons said...

Prince Charming is going to announce his never ending love in a lavish, syruppy, public PR campaign betrothal to his goodlady Kate this summer..I predicted Christmas but I am pushing it ahead to April...they need a little breathing room from Tom-Kat.

Oh dear.. perhaps you mean't the other Prince Charming?
He is happily living out his fantasy inside Camilla's knickers as her feminine hygene unmentionables isn't he?
"Oh my darling squishy or sqwidgy" whatever it was.
Let's hope that PC2 didn't get his romantic recorded telephone skills from the old man..

1:12 am  
Blogger Mise said...

Now, I remember that you didn't have a date for this function...and were possibly going to table-hop...so spill the rest of the beans Cherry :p

9:22 am  
Blogger Within Without said...

Well, Cherrypie, this is a wonderful tale of intrigue and patted bottoms and missing knickers and what appears to be an evening of enchantment.

An evening that you were entirely responsible for. If this is the evening I'm thinking it was, didn't you have a date, albeit a somewhat unwanted date?

I'm sure you looked ravishing, despite your very colourful descriptive poking fun at yourself as anything but.

I can only assume your lost knickers will be the subject of a follow-up post...

9:12 pm  
Blogger Pamela said...

Isn't it funny how all the males start breathing heavily when one mentions lost knickers? I wonder why that is..... Hmmmm.....

You sound more like Wonder Woman, with all that you did.

10:24 pm  
Blogger Within Without said...

So what's your point, Pam?

I had a crush on Wonder Woman I'll have you know.

12:16 am  
Blogger The Tart said...

Stripper Slippers ... too funny!

Great post!

Smooch,
The Tart

Ps. I refuse to give up my "Prince Charming" fantasy ... now that explains alot, natch!

5:23 pm  
Blogger Kate said...

If you think Cinderella is bad, what about that Sleeping Beauty?!? The bitch lies around all day and then some handsome chappy comes along a snogs her. Chance would be a fine thing . . .

ps: I know a very rude joke about Cinderella, it's probably not suitable for general publication though (blush)

7:46 pm  

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