Meantime - in a Kirkwall Café

Ida and Moyra texted me fae the café, I arrived hot foot and they asked me to take the minutes.  It would have been mad to have refused.
 
Ida: .....yes, I'd even had to resort to my inhaler. But things calmed doon in the vestry once he'd put his breeks back on.

Moyra: Mmmmm, l noticed inhalers were reduced in Lidls. Folk were queuing from an early hour; prison warders, philanderers, naysayers, bogus administrators, forensic accountants, a taxidermist, brewers, filleters, crime busters, pocket dippers, day trippers, quippers and Blippers.

Ida: By the way, purely in the interest of scientific, empirical research ye ken, is that snooty besom at No 16 still having a fling with Big Davie ?

Moyra: Well l saw him nipping into her coal shed.


Ida: Jist whit was he offering her?


Moyra: Full disclosure l think.


Ida: Well I’d heard he has been asked to leave the chorus of the Operatic Society. Isobel telt me in rehearsals his scrotum dropped in the middle of his Cosi Fan Tutti.


Moyra: I can't say I'm surprised, he's been reading Carl Jung's sense of the collective unconscious for some time. Meantime - my Jock is proclaiming to be a new man.

Ida: Well I'm looking for something to put in my Ronnie's tea. He wis pawing me all night saying, 'Come on Deidre'! And did ye hear of the kerry on in Findlater's Close? Stan arrived home early for his break and lna was in the passage with a totally nakkit man.



Moyra:   Whit?

Ida: Aye, but credit to her, she was very quick thinking. Even introduced the nakkit mannie and told Stan he was a nudist who had come to the door to ask for directions. She’s so gallus, it must have stuck out for a mile.


Moyra: What a shame, lna's had a very traumatic week. She'll niver be invited to anither soirée at the Manse.


Ida: How no?
 

Moyra:  She'd only been there five minutes when her glass eye fell out and went straight into the olives.  In fairness to her she was feverishly discussing whether globalisation has rendered nature-state-based tax systems ineffective.  On a roll, she continued about mobile factors of production, such as whether capital, can evade taxation leaving labour and consumers bearing even higher burdens of taxation.  Only last week, even before the bingo had commenced, she engaged me in thinking aboot whether conservative political interests, supported by the very corporations that have evaded taxes, then spearhead tax revolts on behalf of the impoverished and immobile citizens and against weaker and poorer labour constituencies in both developed and less developed countries.  What a paradox.  And to cap it all she was wearing that tatty pair of way-too tight-slacks that she bought in the 1980s.
 

Ida: And during the Bingo she was claiming her man is an intellectual.


Moyra: Just because he can listen to the William Tell Overture without thinking of the Lone Ranger ? 
 
 
Ida:  No, because he has a new position with the cooncil as a nano-chemist.
 

Ida:  You mean he’s on the bins?
 
 
Moyra:  He’s on something.


Ida: Amazingly though, as she telt me that in the parlour, her eyes focused on something ootside in the street and she pointed aghast and said, 'ls that Willie Black - well is it'? Efter a' you ken whit like her eyesight is. She passed me her binoculars. Initially they steamed up and then l realised l wis looking through the wrong end. 'Well is that Willie Black'? To keep her at peace l telt her it could be described as quite badly bruised.


Moyra: Ooooh look at the time I have to go now as l have to water me kumquat.

Ida: You and your ruddy kumquat. Relax and finish your tea. You niver ken the executive committee of Blipfoto may be along any minute noo.
 
Moyra:  Is that a police siren I hear ?