Suggested Audio Peroxide:
 Megadeth “No More Mr Nice Guy”
 Sting “Englishman In New York”
noun: a chivalrous, courteous, or honourable man
Apparently manners don’t cost a nickel. I suspect that somebody is missing a trick there are they would likely fetch a handsome price on the internet. While the whole free world is in panic mode running to their nearest stockists before they run out, I will be sitting right here with my poison of choice thanks. You see, the first thing I learned as a child was the art of being a gentleman and it is something I have endeavored to uphold right through my life. Whether opening a door for my date, complimenting them on their recently threaded eyebrows, or running to the next room to pass wind, I have always considered this an imperative pursuit and necessary in order to keep progressing. Having said that, I must get something off my chest before we go a single step further as it has burdened me for many years.
I once got soundly inebriated with a few other binge-drinking friends and we ran into a group of similarly lashed ladies on our long walk home from the cinema. Most of them were affable enough but one in particular seemed tasked with grinding my gears. She made the mistake of being too over-familiar with me after overhearing my buddy mocking me for some menial thing or another. Instantly she tagged on and I took great umbrage to her ribbing, considering she didn’t know me from Adam. Perhaps throwing my triple thick chocolate milkshake over her suede jacket was going a touch too far but, for a few moments, I didn’t feel like acting the gentleman. Needless to say, she was less than impressed by my spiteful rear guard, and we parted ways via a torrent of abuse and virtually every expletive in the urban dictionary was offered as a parting shot.
This was uncharacteristic for me, as I was usually such a mild-mannered creature and seldom acted out of malice. The thing is, I learned a vital life lesson that evening, as there was one thing I hadn’t banked on and that, my dear friends, is karma. Mere minutes after the fracas subsided, I stepped on one of karma’s banana skins but, punishment fitting the crime, the item I slipped on was not one of my five-a-day. A pile of strategically placed dog excrement was my stumbling block and, to make matters worse, it was precariously positioned at the very apex of a hilly incline. After losing my balance, and dropping to terra firma faster than Monica Lewinsky at a public fundraiser, I proceeded to slide through the mess, leaving me caked from head to toe in mutt foul. That was the last time I ever wasted a milkshake and the moral of this story is to act with kindness as you never know what shit lurks in the shadows should you be culpable of doing the precise opposite.
The first thing taught to me as a child was the importance of Ps and Qs. I started voicing my gratitude at an early age and thankfully my young mind wired both please and thanks into my growing vocabulary from the offset, making it impossible for me not to call on these simple words whenever such is necessitated. If I eat at a restaurant and the service is stellar then I wouldn’t think of departing the premises without first notifying the proprietor about my immense satisfaction and personally pointing out my server. Betsy may have been having a godawful day until that point and despise her dead-end job like no other but suddenly it all feels like it means something. Meanwhile, I leave with additional spring in my stride as I have done a good deed. It’s simple forward economics and the next customer who sits down for their meal will invariably reap the benefits of a few kind words so it causes a positive ripple effect for all involved. As this is Keeper we’re talking about here, Betsy can earn this accolade just by unbuttoning her shirt enough for me to catch glimpse of her ample cleavage but whatever works right?
Anyhoots, a simple nod of appreciation can make all the difference and the world can seem like an altogether sunnier place as a result. Alas, right now, I’m practically 100% self-cocooned as I await a change in circumstance so it may appear that I have forgotten how to express my indebtedness. I often struggle to respond to comments left at the foot of the page and this is never ignorance on my part. I’m merely overwhelmed, first by the humongous work load I set myself daily, and second, by the beautiful words of encouragement provided. Make absolutely no mistake, I have a photographic memory for such acts of congeniality and am beyond thankful to each and every one of you for taking the time.
I’m an old-fashioned guy at heart and believe stoutly in the practice of humility. Should Betsy let my words of praise go to her head then it could backfire in spectacular fashion. After letting my compliment marinate, her ego may then expand to such a degree that she ends up throwing her apron back into her manager’s face, storming out defiantly, and befriending a shady dealer on the way home. Before you know it, that kindly waitress with the DD delights is huffing crystal meth in a back alley and blowing passers-by for their pocket change. One must remain grounded where at all possible and this is an art I have prided myself on perfecting. Here I may posses the swagger of the ancients but, there, I’m just this regular guy that has no problem whatsoever with self-effacing endeavor. Picked that one up in Gentleman 101 too.
Two-way conversation is much harder to grasp than folk realize. There exists a natural ebb and flow and failure to adhere to this simple code of honor can result in one party feeling hard done by. There is nothing more exasperating than feeling that your contribution is pointless but that is precisely how we feel when cut short during the peak of our prose. Similarly, pre-loading your answers can frustrate your opposite number to the nth degree. You will usually see your chat buddy chomping at the bit to tell you what’s on their mind before they forget it and suddenly everything you are saying becomes grossly inconsequential. Adaptability is key here as is reading your subject and understanding their own part in the process. Should you do so and they do likewise then a simple tête-à-tête can become the highlight of both your days. It’s simple when you know how.
Meeting people from all different walks of life requires the same versatility. If I am introduced to an old lady deeply entrenched in the twilight of her existence, then I know full well not to slip my hand into her cardigan and cup her breast. There can be only two outcomes to such an act of presumption. Either I receive her clutch bag around my face and the authorities become duly dispatched or she takes a liking to the grope as it’s seven years since Neville passed. Next thing I know, I’m looking up from between her thighs doe-eyed, attempting to fathom why she has enough skin down there for two vaginas plus an additional mini-minge. Sometimes it’s more advisable to meet others on their own terms, especially the elderly. Another gem gleaned from Gentleman 101. Having said that, I must point out that respecting your elders doesn’t mean you always have to like them.
Certain senior citizens have no intention of exhibiting even the faintest whiff of decorum. It is as though they begin their lives with a set amount of pleases and thankyous at their disposal and run out just before they hit 65. It’s astonishing what a dash of bitterness will do once you become too long in the tooth to care about the outcome of your actions. I would much rather be a quaint little geriatric than an ignorant buzzard any day of the calendar month. That’s not to say I won’t still be pinching the asses of girls 1/3 of my age in the high street. But I shall begin with “please”, end in “thankyou”, and cram in a “sorry” should a finger unwittingly slip inside them. You see Grueheads, that’s dignified.
When I reach my death-bed and have a little free time to ponder my existence, I cannot say I won’t have my regrets. I’m waiting for Beelzebub to throw that triple thick chocolate milkshake discrepancy in my face but, other than a little spilled lactose, I believe I have acted reasonably honorably for the duration. The concept of hurting anyone is one which makes me intensely uneasy. Likewise, If I suspect that somebody is acting out of turn then I would never call them out in public. That’s where karma comes in. There are well over 500 million dogs on Earth to my knowledge and every last one of them has its own sphincter. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t stop a dog from shitting. They’ll get theirs, I speak from experience there. I’m just grateful for the education.
So how far does my courtesy stretch? If I love somebody, then I would place my jacket over a puddle for them to cross this obstruction safely in the blink of an eye. I would also hold their hair back if they were projectile vomiting after a suspect salad. Hell, replace said Waldorf with an Indian curry and I’ll stand between their legs with a catcher’s mitt even though there’s nothing but fluids evacuating. I wouldn’t have it any other way and, moreover, I will instill these values into my five-year-old son so that he too can learn how to ride a penny farthing. It may seem cliché but there really is no cost to kindness and what goes around, invariably comes around by laundry day. One final thing and I’ll wash myself out of your hair. This one I don’t agree with in the slightest: you have to be cruel to be kind. I’d love to quiz Shakespeare about that one. Guess even he had his off days.
The Importance of Ps & Qs
Excuse me good fellow you seem rather mellow
would you mind if I sit by your side
I don’t wish to gripe and have no need to bellow
but there’s something I wish to confide
You may wonder why I am telling you this
but I beg that you hear what I say
I’ve been told that caring is what sharing is
it can be my good deed for the day
That girl over there with the luscious blonde hair
the things she will do for a please
I asked her permission to kick-start my transmission
and she swiftly dropped straight to her knees
After guzzling hard on each precious last drop
and licking her lips most invitingly
she requested to know if I wished her to stop
so I said a swift no thanks excitedly
I had no desire to cause her to choke
so I frequently checked for her pulse
and each time she gagged with each subsequent toke
I would cradle her as she convulsed
She may have thrown up after taking my load
but I made sure to pin back her hair
I then guided her to the nearest commode
as there was something more she wished to share
I’d do it again in a heartbeat no less
and feel I have honored my duty
but I don’t give a hoot for her DD breasts
as there’s no way I’m eating that booty
Click here to read Cleanse
Awesome. Better to come out smelling like a rose now than like dog excrement later!
Indeed, the crazy thing was that the first house I knocked on afterwards were only too glad to let me use their bath towel to clean the shit off. If a pimple-faced teen turned up on my doorstep smelling like Benji’s colon, I’m not sure I would have been quite as quick to lend a hand.
Glad you enjoyed my friend. Your support and kindness is beyond awesome.
I love you to bits. You’re a brilliant writer, you have no idea how much I enjoy reading your blog. Thank you so much for all you do.
You are so very welcome Billie Jo and your comment just made my day. I adore bringing pleasure wherever I can and love and support will never grow old.
I am truly touched by your comment. Thank you and I shall continue to give it my all and keep those smiles coming.
Brunettes prefer gentlemen also 😉 😊
Whoo. Gentlemen get the pick of the crop it seems. What about redheads and those afflicted by baldness?
Not sure what they prefer…probably a good henna rinse and rogain 😉
Honored Vinnie. Thank you so much. You just made my Saturday.