|Ticking all the boxes. (standard:humor, 1035 words)|
|Author: red1hols||Added: Mar 13 2006||Views/Reads: 2222/1417||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Charlie needs publicity. With Amy ticking so many boxes, how can he fail?|
Ticking all the Boxes Charlie's job in London wasn't meeting his expectations. When he left Oundle he expected fame and fortune fuelled by a list of prestige clients. Unfortunately, his was a list of a single client – Amy an obscure South American poet. What Charlie needed was publicity and he had just the people to call. For the Oundle Literary Festival Committee, Charlie's offer of a reader was God sent. Amy ticked so many boxes. She was South American, so she gave the Literary Festival an International flavour. Her gender helped, as did belonging to an ethnic minority. Above all, Charlie said that she was available for the most nominal of fees. The small but rave review of her poetry in the Guardian was almost an added bonus. The committee unanimously agreed to book her for the International Ethnic Poetry Night. They didn't even query the quality of Amy's English. If most people understood last years Liverpudlian poet, then they would understand anyone. For Amy, securing a poetry tour made up for the taunts and jibes about being bookish. Her love poetry was her ticket to see the world. In a few short weeks, she would have the chance to see London, Oxford, Edinburgh and, erm... Oundle. Amy was sure that Oundle was a lovely place - she just couldn't find it in her atlas. Everyone was so caught up in the apparent perfection of the arrangements; they somehow missed the block booking by the Islington Militant Feminist Group. The Tourist Information Centre was so busy, they didn't have time to wonder why so many asthmatic men were booking tickets. With such strong early bookings, the committee felt it was right to move the event to the Great Hall. Two days before the reading, Charlie drove to Oundle to meet Amy in the Market Place. He could have driven Amy up on the day of the reading, but that didn't have the impact. Amy needed to make an entrance and what better entrance than the X4 bus at lunchtime? Charlie might live in London, but he hadn't forgotten the traditions of Oundle parking. Studiously, he ignored the open parking bays and meticulously abandoned the recently valleted 4x4 across the pavement and double yellow lines. He bought himself some chips and with a wide grin settled down to wait. Tucking her sailor's chest under one arm, Amy stepped off the bus. At 6' 7” and wearing thigh high leather boots with a 3 inch heel, she towered over a growing crowd. A robust leather bikini top prominently displayed her ample cleavage. The loin cloth didn't cover her modesty - it barely covered her leather briefs. A number of leather straps and belts accessorised the whole ensemble. On her back was a rather incongruous and colourful golfing umbrella. Amy shook her mane of black hair and smiled at the gawping crowd. Dozens of schoolboy jaws dropped in unison as she stretched and finely toned muscles rippled under her perfect olive skin. Charlie's smile broadened. The remaining tickets for Oundle's International Ethnic Poetry Night sold out within the hour. Before evening, there was a flourishing black market. The next day there were tickets selling for hundreds of pounds on e-Bay. The committee never thought that crowd control would be an issue at the Oundle Literary Festival. Yet, three hours before Amy was due to speak, hundreds of people had gathered outside the Great Hall. For some reason the papers and TV news people had turned up. Suddenly, having three elderly volunteers in charge of the door didn't seem adequate. Click here to read the rest of this story (56 more lines)
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