My mirth at having to leap across rivulets, completely abandoning my elegant ensemble in a balance umbrella, hitch up expensive trousers and don't land in the middle of that humongous water body, dance (10 min of monsoon is all it takes to create mayhem in central London), gives way to gross indignation at the realisation that my boots have sprung a leak! Indignation is quickly replaced by good karma as the absurd queue ahead of us dissolves and we're led to a table, with seats on the edge. My relief at not being wedged between other damp diners is short lived, as the woman next to us opens her mouth.....
If Henry Higgins were to have stepped up to the plate to attempt to shepard that pitch into something close to human resonance, he would be a better man than I. My heart thumps in tandem with baseline of the house rhythm pumping through the restaurant, yet all I hear is that shrill voice, piercing through my head, bringing all coherent thought to a grinding halt. The Dutchman grins at the look on my face. I try and re-arrange it into a semblance of less than a horrified gape. Unsuccessfully. Like a train wreck, my eyes are drawn in the direction of that inhuman sound, and I see her lips move to form what I presume are words, but all I hear is that noise. A stabbing tone sans pitch or modulation, stridently enthusiastic, and utterly mind numbing. I feel my brain shut down, and despite my best intentions, continue to wince at the unexpectedly brutal auditory assault.
As my mind grapples with the weighty issue of whether I'd be subject to this or nails down a blackboard, my body finds it's own defense. Sealing off the ear closest to her, makes my own voice echo inside my head in rather a pleasing manner, an eccentric counterpoint to the nightclub sound that reverberates through the room. It is however, gastronomically challenging to consume scallops (stunted, mingy and overcooked - if that's what the queen looks like, I'd hate to see her subjects! Seafood in this country is best given a wide berth!! Oh - Randall & Aubin in case you were wondering), and I gulp my wine instead. I'm dumbfounded that her companion fails to hear anything amiss and actually seems to encourage the use of those vocal cords. I wonder if he wakes up to that tone in the morning. Moot point. Any more than a handful of sentences, and I'd be shouting justifiable homicide as they came to take me away.... I wonder if I can file an Asbo,., but my synapses have already gone on strike.
I manage to catch the, 'You're unusually quiet' and aim for a Mona Lisa smile. Little does he know,
In your heeeaaaaad... in your heeeeeaaaaaad.... zombie, zombie... eh ehe eh...
in you HEAAAAD....
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