Saturday, January 21, 2017
Come Hither Harry
"Come hither," she said, eyes gleaming.
"No, no, no!" I said. "I'm a guy! My name's Harry, not Heather!"
"I said, 'hither,' you idiot! That means 'come here'."
"Wha...you want me?"
"Oh, don't be stupid! You've got to be a hundred years old. I'm locked in this room and can't get out!"
"Well, I'm soree! I should be younger, heh? Just for you, heh?"
"Will you shut up and do something?"
"What? Isn't there a door somewhere?"
"No." A tear dropped from her eye to her cheek. "The window is the only way in and the only way out and it's locked."
"So, who locked you in there?"
"That's not important! My God, are you ever going to help me?" she asked, sobbing.
I said, "OK," took off my shoe, broke a glass panel, reached in, found a latch and undid it.
"What the hell?" I said. "You could have done that yourself anytime you wanted!"
"True," she said smiling. "But what fun would that be? And now you know the difference between Harry and hither. So, if a beautiful girl ever says to you, 'Come hither, Harry,' you ought to run away. But first get your hearing checked.
Then she walked through an open door on the far side of the room. I never saw her again.
It was a lesson of sorts. I think.