Reader, I Married Him …

  • Gerrof me!
  • I beg your pardon – I didn’t touch you!
  • Yeah yer did. I felt yer hands on mi tinkerpokle!
  • I assure you young man, I absolutely did not touch your … ahem … tinkerpokle.
  • Yer did. I felt it. I can still feel it nah. Like some kinda aftertaste. Too much fondling and not enough mind your gap. I know it’s crowded in ere but you have to not touch people up.
  • But I …
  • That’s why they say on the tannoy to ‘mind the gap’. It’s so that pervy old birds like you don’t take advantage of well set up blokes like me.
  • Old bird?! How dare you! I’ve only just turned thirty if you don’t mind!
  • Well I do mind. Ah’m twenny-two and ah’v got mi best years ahead of mi and I doubt if you’ll see forty again you old hag.
  • Hag? I’ve never been so insulted in all my life!
  • Well yer need to turn yer hearing aid up then, Mrs Cratchpole. Here, let me show you …
  • Oi, gerrof mi hair!
  • Ooh, nah she’s showing her true colours. Wot appened to yer posh accent, Mrs Haglibottom?
  • Umf.
  • Oh, umf is it now? La-di-da-Lady says ‘umf’. Found yer out didn’t we!
  • Wot? Nuffink to say now? Well see if this livens yer up.
  • Argh!
  • Yeah, you like that don’t yer? Bit of jolly roger up yer old plum puddin, that’s what yer need innit!
  • I assure you …
  • Oh yer, I assure you too.
  • Young man …
  • Matt.
  • Matt, you can’t do that. Not in here.
  • Wot’s that I can’t?
  • You can’t touch me inappropriately in a crowded carriage.
  • An you can?
  • Well, I didn’t exactly make it so obvious. It was just that as I turned I accidently brushed my hands across your, erm, nether regions …
  • Tinkerpokle.
  • Quite.
  • Go on, say it.
  • Ah … tinkerpokle.
  • There. Sounds nice, dunnit. I can tell yer likes it cause I can hear it in yer breathin.
  • Breathing?
  • Yeh, yer breath is speedin’ up and it feels hot against my neck.
  • Well, it is kind of hot in here … Matt.
  • Listen, I know yer an old bint and all that, but yer nicely put togevver and so … yer fancy a snog?
  • Snog?
  • Kissin. Wiv tongues as optional. You’d like it.
  • Well, yes, kissing is rather nice at times. Like when one is …
  • Enough of that posh talk. We kissin or not?
  • Ah …
  • Aw c’mere.

So I did. And it was actually quite nice. And we kept it up until Morden, even though my stop was Elephant and Castle and his was Tooting Bec. And yes, reader, I married him.

7 thoughts on “Reader, I Married Him …

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