by Jack Winter
Published 25 July 1994, The New Yorker
It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very
chalant, despite my efforts to appear
gruntled and
consolate.
I was
furling my
wieldy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing alone in a corner. She was a
descript person, a woman in a state of
total array. Her hair was
kempt, her clothing
shevelled, and she moved in a
gainly way.
I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I'd have to
make bones about it since I was
travelling cognito.
Beknownst to me, the hostess, whom I could see
both hide and hair of, was very proper, so it would be
skin off my nose if anything bad happened. And even though I had only
swerving loyalty to her, my manners couldn't be
peccable. Only
toward and
heard-of behavior would do.
Fortunately, the embarrassment that my
maculate appearance might cause was
evitable. There were
two ways about it, but the chances that someone as
flappable as I would be
ept enough to become
persona grata or a
sung hero were slim. I was, after all,
something to sneeze at, someone you
could easily hold a candle to, someone who usually aroused
bridled passion.
So I decided not to risk it. But then, all at once, for
some apparent reason, she looked in my direction and smiled in a way that I
could make heads and tails of.
I was
plussed. It was
concerting to see that she was
communicado, and it
nerved me that she was interested in a
pareil like me,
sight seen. Normally, I had a
domitable spirit, but, being
corrigible, I felt
capacitated--as if this were something I
was great shakes at--and forgot that I had succeeded in situations like this only a
told number of times. So, after a
terminable delay, I acted with
mitigated gall and made my way through the
ruly crowd with
strong givings.
Nevertheless, since this was
all new hat to me and I had no time to prepare a
promptu speech, I was
petuous. Wanting to make only
called-for remarks, I started talking about the hors d'oeuvres, trying to
abuse her of the notion that I was
sipid, and perhaps even
bunk a few myths about myself.
She responded well, and I was
mayed that she considered me a
savory character who was
up to some good. She told me who she was. "What a perfect
nomer," I said,
advertently. The conversation become more and more
choate, and we spoke at length
to much avail. But I was
defatigable, so I had to leave
at a godly hour. I asked if she wanted to come with me. To my delight, she was
committal. We left the party together and have been together ever since. I have given her my love, and she has
requited it.
Thanks, guys! I originally posted a link here to the page where I finally uncovered it, but it doesn't seem to be working anymore.
My favorite is "mitigated gall." :-)
Reesetee, fantastic! I somehow missed this when you first posted it, and only caught it now thanks to npydyuan's comment. I read this piece when it was first published, and loved it, and have occasionally wondered since how I could dig up a copy :-)
Ha! Bridled passion! I love it--I mean, I like it....
True--I had to think harder than usual (ouch) when I posted it. :-)
Really cool reesetee - each word makes me think!
Yay! I've always loved this :)
Thanks, o. Been meaning to get this on here for a while now. :-)
Great Reesetee! I was hoping somebody'd list this. I heard it on NPR's Cartalk years ago and forgotten the original source. Thanks.