Saturday, July 01, 2006

Tedstruck

We managed to retrieve Ted from Union Station on Thursday night in spite of Amtrak customer service, which told us his train was running 47 minutes late (it was on time) and that it would arrive at one of the Amtrak-only gates (it did not). Although he has no cell phone, Ted did have the resourcefulness to call from a pay phone and leave a message on my cell phone, which I got a mere fifteen minutes later.

Upon learning that our guest had arrived, Dolores and I ran over to the appropriate platform (half an hour late) and there he was, sitting and knitting a sock and doubtless wondering whether we had succumbed to fear of his Canadianity.

"That's Ted?" whispered Dolores as we approached.

"Most likely," I said.

"Rrrowwwrrr," said Dolores.

"Don't you even–"

"Ted!" screamed Dolores. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Chicago! Aren't you looking like nine kinds of heaven especially after all that traveling. Was it too awful? You must be exhausted. Well, don't worry, you're in good hands now and I'll take such good care of you. Gimme a kiss, lovey."

"Hi, Ted, it's nice to finally mee–"

"Franklin, why don't you get his bag, and secure a taxi, and we'll meet you outside? Excellent. You're sweet. Ted, honey–a drink in the lounge before we trot along home to bed?"

Ted did not, as it happened, care for a drink and so just a few minutes later we were speeding up Lake Shore Drive in a taxi. Dolores tried to insist it was an usually small taxi and so perhaps she ought to sit on Ted's knee. Ted took it all in stride, possibly because he was too tired to know what was going on.

At home, as Ted freshened up, I pushed Dolores into the kitchen and decided to nip this thing in the bud.

"Knock it off," I hissed. "He's not going to fall for it. Ted bats for the other team."

"You mean he goes up the down staircase?" she said, aghast.

"That's right," I said. "A card-carrying friend of Dorothy."

"Well," Dolores huffed, "I've never let the fact that a studhunk was a confirmed pole-smoker* get in my way before and I don't intend to start now."

"Keep your hooves to yourself," I said. "Or you're going to be a very sorry sheep indeed."

"I'm sorry," she said. "Even if he does sing soprano in the fairy choir, it's too late to stem the flood-tide now. Out of my way and let Mama surf."

It's been a very long weekend so far, and it's only Saturday. I'll tell you later.

*Tip o' the pen to David.

19 comments:

Aidan said...

Yonkele: If Ted becomes too traumatized, give him our phone number and put him in a cab. Poor dear. I'm picturing him huddling in a corner of the guest room, afraid to close his eyes for fear of ending up like the (former) Bishop of Birmingham's wife!

I'd suggest arming poor Ted with a length of rope and a pair of shears, but I'm afraid of the extracurricular uses Dolores might put them to.

Tell Ted I said hey and that the lace is going much better now.

JoVE said...

You see, knitting helps with so many stresses in life. No one there to meet you? Sit, knit a sock, they'll turn up eventually. And we non-owners of cell phones are grateful for the few payphones that still exist, even if we don't always have the right kind of change to actually use them :-)

Lee Ann said...

Please give Ted a hug for me. (Heu, that would be Franklin I'm asking...)

All the Way With Knitting said...

aidan said it all really but that phrase "bats for the other team" just cracks me up ..pardon me.You have got to take Ted out somewhere Dolores can't find you both.

lucia said...

A drink in the "lounge" at Union Station? I had a drink at Union Station; Ted was wise to decline.

Aidan said...

I'm afraid the only place they could go where Dolores wouldn't find them would be the offices of the Women's Christian Temperance League.

Marilyn said...

Listen, Ted knows how to deal with the likes of Dolores.

She's grist for his mill and his spindle.

The Late Dolores, now a fine skein of Ted Myatt's superior laceweight. Put the cow (ewe, whatever) in her place, Edward.

Yvonne said...

So the last thing I did last night before going to bed was read your blog.

And last night, I dreamed of Dolores.

Unfortunately I don't remember the details, but I remember waking up feeling quite amused.

All the Way With Knitting said...

Maybe if Franklin and Ted can borrow Salvation Army uniforms ? Last night I dreamt about Gregory Peck and I'm not telling the details but I woke with a smile on my face ...ahem.Suddenly I can't remember if Franklin has a moustache ...never mind post-menopausal ladies can have a problem.

julia fc said...

Does Dolores know she's a, uh, sheep? I don't care which way one bats, if the boot tops are tight, she's out of her league.

janna said...

But the real question is -- what sort of Canada Day celebration did you plan for Ted?

Jane said...

Ahem...Dolores dear, I think Ted might be just a bit shy about dating outside his species, not to mention the whole gender preference thing. Why not go slow at first? Just ask if he's ever consider taking a walk on the "wool" side. You know, test the waters!

FiberQat said...

Where's a Greek sailor when you need one?

Linda said...

It's so awful having an amorous flatmate. Too humiliating and stressful for words.

All the Way With Knitting said...

Message for Dolores..from my sister who is a paramedic.She just finished Ascot and says she was a little surprised not seeing you ..she had thought she might have to treat you for a little too much Pimms.Maybe you could do the scence over here next Summer so Franklin can have some chill time.

Aileen said...

So I was in a yarn store the other day and I remembered how much in love I was with the King Charles Brocade scarf that you had been knitting. And then I realized we never got word if you had finished it and it is still up on your blog as being 70% finished. Is this true? Does it look beautiful as I am predicting?

Carol said...

Is it Edward or Theodore?

Ted said...

It's Edward.

Don't even think of calling me Theodore.

David said...

Pen tip appreciated and honored.