(Photo by Fun. Usually, I like to write my own poems for photos appearing here. However, when I saw this photo all that came to mind were these lines from Tennyson's "Ring Out, Wild Bells."
Wishing everyone a safe and lovely New Year.)
Violinist arrived to join us at Convocation but couldn't find us. We had three seats upfront with a walkway directly behind us. Geek Guy went looking for Violinist and just then a woman tightly wrapped in lime tinfoil mini-dress, orange foundation - or maybe that was spray-tan - ratted bleached hair, painted everything, Cleavage - Lots of SunDamaged Cleavage - showed up. She carried a lovely bouquet of flowers, as if to make it all better.
Mutton-Dressed-Like-Lamb, accompanied by two young bleating sheep, tried sniping our seats. "Mutton should have Violinist's seat. Mutton is a parent," they loudly bleated. To which I replied, "These are taken. That is Violinist's seat. This is GG's seat. We've been here for an hour, just like the invitations say to do."
A nicely dressed ordinary looking woman seated at row's end, next to Violinist's seat smirked. I turned toward the front. Push. Push. Mutton pushed her shiny way toward Violinist's seat. Bleat. Bleat. She was a mother so she should sit there.