I picked up a spy novel recently and was reminded of my adolescent love of that genre. I have always harbored a secret desire to be a real, live spy. Actually – a spy OR a sniper. Either one is fine.
On the odd occasion when I’ve mentioned that fact to others; I’ve always gotten a weird look and, generally, some sissy comment back from the speaker indicating he or she wouldn’t be able to shoot at a deer – much less people.
Oh, I could.
My only worry is that the military wouldn’t give me enough bullets. That’s one thing terrorists seem to never run out of: bullets. Ratty clothes, cave dwellings, unkempt beards…...but plenty of bullets.
Either way, I’m not saying I want to shoot at anybody. I really don’t. I’m just saying I could definitely shoot at a terrorist from way far away if I had to and, due to reading that latest spy book, I’ve been thinking about it a good bit lately. So much, in fact, that I wasn’t really surprised this weekend at Margaret’s wedding when a very well-dressed, distinguished gentleman with a lovely brunette on his arm leaned over to me and said slowly and clearly “S I M P A T I C O U P S T A I R S. T A K E T H E L A M B.”
I didn’t immediately recognize him, but at the same time he looked very familiar....Exactly like a spy should look.
He looked me square in the eye and winked then paused, awaiting a response.
My mind fairly bulged with the shock, intrigue and pride I felt at the faith my government had obviously placed in me to engage in espionage on behalf of my beloved country. What better place to recruit me into their service than a family wedding?
My eyes narrowed and, as my mind furiously searched for an appropriate response, he leaned in a bit closer and said even more slowly “S I M P A T I C O. Understand? S I M P A T I C O” then his eyes narrowed slightly and he winked his right eye briefly, just once.
Still in shock I mustered a knowing wink through fear-widened eyes and responded as clearly and slowly as I could: “Y O U S A I D ‘THE LAMB’, I S T H A T C O R R E C T?”
Awaiting further instructions I continued to hold his gaze for a moment while maintaining an awareness of all my blind spots and he responded:
“T H E L A M B” equally slowly, and with a curt nod.
I know our government can be a tid-bit enigmatic, but I was really starting to get confused. If you give somebody a damn code word you’re supposed to tell them ahead of time what the range of code words could be, right? I mean good grief. If I could read minds Tyler wouldn’t be furious at me right now.
We continued to stare at one another, live music blaring in the background until his gaze hardened and he said
“D O Y O U U N D E R S T A N D”? S I M P A T I C O. G O U P S T A I R S “
“NOW?” I responded quizzically, glancing up the stairwell towards the deserted groomsmen’s quarters.
“NO. NOT NOW.” He hissed, glancing around nervously.
“B U T H O W W I L L I K N O W W H E N I S S I M P A T I C O?” I whispered, checking the corners of the room for eavesdroppers.
“T H A T I S U P T O Y O U” he responded, slowly and clearly.
“I T I S Y O U R R E H E A R S A L D I N N E R.”
So, to Mr. Frey of the Marietta Frey's (who cleans up very well I might add) thank you for recommending a rehearsal dinner location - "Restaurant Simpatico" for my upcoming wedding weekend.
I am sorry I thought you were a spy.
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1 comment:
I have been looking for a recent blog entry from you and , not meaning to be critical, am asking.....Is the date wrong on this latest one?
thanks for the entertaining writing
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