You will know, of course, of my journey to Turkish a week back.
Unlike some people, I like to return bearing gifts of my trip for friends and family. It is all part of my generous nature.
I go for quality, too. None of this "My mate went to Istanbul and all I got was this lousy fez" rubbish.
Decent gifts which I pick thoughtfully, a dedicated endeavour through which I can show that once in a while I, too, can think about other people.
I don't want acclaim for it. No, that would be ludicrous. Highly ludicrous.
I don't even ask for a gift in return so that I stay evens-stevens with whoever the grateful recipient of my largenesse may so be.
But I am all flabbergasted and flummoxed with the latest lack of turn of events.
Scenario: I hand over in good faith a perfectly good, fit-for-purpose, mock-turkish-carpet fridge magnet of no less than 1.5inches by 2.5 inches. It did not cost a fortune. Far from it. It actually doubled as the ticket to a Turkish harem where I whiled myself away a bit for a while about two days of my four day trip.Oh how I whiled.
Yes, I hand over this remarkable artefact - a tribute to the ancient skills of the weaverers of that carpet-crazy nation - to someone who took it swiftly.
But nary not a word of thank you, sir, at all!
NARY NOT!
It is a good thing I am a man of deep forgiveableness.
2 comments:
The waistcoat memento seems to have got lost in the internal post. Just to let you know.
It may have fallen through the wire mesh of your in-tray? (I had to guess on size.)
Post a Comment