The Short Humour Site

Home : Writers' Showcase : Submission Guidelines : A Man of a Few More Words : Links

Writers' Showcase

by Ken Simm

Of all my relationships Carol was the strangest, perhaps.

The one that hurt most, no not by a long way. The weirdest, yes she could safely lay claim to that title.

You see she left me for someone else. Not just any someone. She left me for another girl.

Now, I was very proud of my liberal attitude. I had come out of the darkness and I was there.. With Ethnic minorities, gays and certainly until Carol, women. Some of my best friends were some or even all of the above and I was proud. My hair and my afghan and my earring proclaimed me loud and clear. I had my ear pierced I think in Paris but I can’t remember.

Carol cried a lot. I never had the guts to ask why. I had waited long enough for this relationship.

We met at home. We tried to get time together. My Father walked in on us in my bedroom. He thought it was the best thing since they learned to cut bread into slices. My Mother when she found out refused to give Carol breakfast.

Carol and I met at a local rock festival. The headline act was the Grateful Dead. I got back issues of Oz. You could not read Oz. Lime green printing on purple paper.

One underground magazine I got had an illiterate dope fiend supplement in it. With free paper wings you could tape to your back and fly out the window. We used it to cook our peaches and ox tail soup. We had lots of tins with no labels. Can’t remember how it tasted.

Carol came over to us in our little spot underneath the lighting tower.

“Can I stay with you?” she asked apparently because the guy she came with was shooting up some heavy stuff. She was wearing a cheesecloth top. I have always been a sucker for cheesecloth tops.

Carol was cold when the sun went down. I had a blanket and a single sleeping bag. Being the courteous type I offered her the blanket. She got in the sleeping bag with me. Problem was we were facing away from each other. I remember trying to be a caterpillar on acid during the Dead’s set.

Carol’s girlfriend was butch. Bigger than me and very strong. She came down to Uni and beat me up. To the strains of Bohemian Rhapsody in the TV lounge of halls during Top of the Pops. Carol wondered why I didn't fight back. It was two things. Completely unrelated, one the knife that Carol’s friend had and two the rifle that a guy standing in a cupboard was pointing at us. He had nothing to do with anyone in the lounge he was just hacked off with Queen .

I never saw Carol again. She did not come down to take her degree with me and I got arrested the day after. Inside a ten foot penis with a bucket of whitewash and a stirrup pump.