I have kept it quiet until now, but I must tell you the story of my recent summer holiday: as a typical British 30 something, having split from my latest girlfriend, I decided to take a vacation. I booked myself on a Caribbean cruise and proceeded to have the time of my life, that is, until the ship sank.
X found himself on an island with no other people, no supplies, nothing, only bananas and coconuts.
After about four months, X is lying on the beach one day (filthy, half-starved and in despair) when the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen (but that is because I have not really seen Emma) rows up to the shore.
In disbelief, I asked, "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"
She replies, "I rowed from the other side of the island. I landed here when my cruise ship sank."
"Amazing," X notes. "You were really lucky to have a row boat wash up with you."
"Oh, this thing?" explains the woman. "I made the boat out of raw material I found on the island. The oars were whittled from gum tree branches. I wove the bottom from palm branches, and the sides and stern came from a Eucalyptus tree."
"But, where did you get the tools?"
"Oh, that was no problem," replied the woman. "On the south side of the island, a very unusual stratum of alluvial rock is exposed. I found if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into ductile iron. I used that for tools and used the tools to make the hardware."
X is more stunned than he has ever been - even while reading one of Lyle's posts.
"Let's row over to my place," she says.
After a few minutes of rowing, she docks the boat at a small wharf. As X looks to shore, I nearly fell off the boat. Before me is a stone walk leading to an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and white. While the woman ties up the rowboat with an expertly woven hemp rope, X can only stare ahead, dumb struck.
As they walk into the house, she says casually, "It's not much but I call it home. Sit down, please. Would you like a drink?"
"No! No thank you," X blurts out, still dazed. "I can't take another drop of coconut juice."
"It's not coconut juice," winks the woman. "I have a still. How would you like a Pina Colada?"
Trying to hide his continued amazement, X accepts, and they sit down on her couch to talk. After they have exchanged their stories, the woman announces, "I'm going to slip into something more comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There is a razor upstairs in the bathroom cabinet."
No longer questioning anything, X goes into the bathroom. There, in the cabinet, a razor made from a piece of tortoise bone. Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge are fastened on to its end inside a swivel mechanism.
"This woman is amazing," X muses. "What next?"
When I return, she greets me wearing nothing but vines, strategically positioned, and smelling faintly of gardenias. She beckons for me to sit down next to her. "Tell me," she begins suggestively, slithering closer to him, "We've been out here for many months. You've been lonely. There's something I'm sure you really feel like doing right now, something you've been longing for?" She stares into X's eyes.
X can't believe what he's hearing. "You mean . . " I swallow excitedly and tears start to form in my eyes.
"Don't tell me you've got Sky Sports as well"
;D
