Alternatively, The WABAC Machine Shows How To Win A Cocktail Party
I went two for two on beta readers telling me that the post drafted for today was confrontational. I didn’t see it that way, but that’s why one has beta readers. Since I couldn’t see the effect, I couldn’t change it nor accurately weigh the merits of letting it stand. This is unusual for me. Le mot juste is the closest thing I have to a superpower. So then I tried to figure out exactly what I wanted to say and why I wanted to say it. So then I ran out of energy. Here, have an evergreen.
Long ago in the deeps of time.
Party at a friend’s house. Chatting with a fellow I did not know. Host walks over. Says, “Oh, I see the two horse people have found each other.” Walks off.
We exchange looks and nods along the lines of ‘You? Yes. You? Yes.’
He was a large fellow, both tall and heavyset. His physique did not scream At Home In The Saddle. I figured he’d been on a horse once or twice. That counted as a horse person to muggles.
Him: What kind of riding do you do?
Me: Have you ever heard of three-day eventing?
Him: I’m a graduate-A Pony Clubber.
Game. Set. Match.
Stay safe. Stay sane.