Monday, December 15, 2008

A tale of two markets

It was the best of places and the worst of places, a place of light and dark, hope and despair and a place where no lady should be seen.
It was the market road that lay, on a Saturday morning in mid December, before coffee but after a hearty breakfast with Mrs Crapshot. The mired road lay before her in its usual genial position, winding through the indoor and outdoor markets that held all the promise of the coming season.

"Yoo hoo, gorgeous!" said Mr Zebediah Bullshittin "Four for a pound."

Mrs Minxalot pulled her hat further down to cover her perplexed countenance. Mr Bullshittin and his foreign coconuts were probably not to be trusted on such a morning and she clutched her list to her bosom and hurried on to the inner sanctum of the febrile market.

The smell of fried dead cow and doughnuts assaulted her sensitivities and the call of "Get 'em while they're hot" nearly stopped this small and fragile creature in her tracks. Not a moment could be lost and she neatly side stepped the bargain slippers with their jovial snowmen toes and the stall that held the delights of 'Mr Patel's London Fashions' (she was slightly distracted here here by the lure of a very gaudy, lacy undergarment) and hurried on to her goal.

"Yes, darlin?"

Mrs Minxalot ignored the overly familiar greeting and the overly large, bulbous nose that accompanied it and hurriedly fished in her carpet bag for her eyeglasses with which to decipher her list of purchasing.

"Umm, two genuine velvet flashing Santa Christmas stockings, please, and three of those luxury hats with the cross-eyed reindeer, thank you very kindly."

With her seasonal shopping done, Mrs Minxalot, wended her weary way back to the Gin House for a pint of Mr Gordons' finest and twenty televisual repeats of the X-Factor final.

It was the best of times.


Unknown said...

Back on form, Minx... Chrimbo shopping? Eeeuugh.

Unknown said...

Perchance you have also been making purchases of the season, Mrs Smithjiggins?

Anonymous said...

"...back to the Gin House for a pint of Mr Gordons' finest and twenty televisual repeats of the X-Factor final."

A pint? How festive!

Unknown said...

At this time of year, Leslie, I like to add a small umbrella to my pint of gin (or a screwdriver!). I like a little sophistication.

fatboysblogg said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Roberta said...

With all of that Gin, I'm glad it wasn't a "Tail" or Two markets. Forgive me. I'm fried.

Unknown said...

Life is like that, FB, and no, you can't.

You are allowed to be fried, Roberta, or baked and boiled at this time of year. If I see another piece of tinsel I may have to kill someone.

Unknown said...

Small and fragile creature with velvet flashing stockings and a hat with cross eyed reindeer - oh and a large gin. Hmm, this small and fragile creature sounds downright dangerous! (BTW, should you be drinking screwdrivers?)

Great bit of writing, Minx!

fatboysblogg said...

Well bugger you then.

Unknown said...

Did they sell Otter's noses?

bulletholes said...

Twenty X-Factors!
That must be a record.
I'm surprised you can still walk.

Helen + ilana = Hi said...

Be sure to pluck those screwdrivers afore drinkin' them.

petra michelle; Whose role is it anyway? said...

hahaha, Minx! The dickens to Dickens. The adventures of Mrs. Minxalot are far more intriguing!

Hoping you're feeling better, Minx!

Unknown said...

Fiction allows me to be 'small and fragile', Vanilli!!

John G - no, but they do a nice line in rat muffs.

I didn't watch them, Bullets (fiction again). What is the X Factor anyway?

Err, yes, Hi, I'll try. Not easy when you are drinking through a straw.

I love Dickens, especially the names, did you notice?
If I was a Dickens character i would like to be Mrs Ernestra Crankshaft or possibly Miss Helicon Flopsybun.

fatboysblogg said...

I've got a stinking cold now,thats you and your blummin hex's that is.

bulletholes said...

Minxy, are you askin' for a demonstratin?

Anonymous said...

Damn fine writer, that Dickens bloke.

Love from Hermione Bumblewart

Vesper said...

What a cute story! :-)
I wish you the best of times, dear Minx.

Unknown said...

I abide by the threefold law, FB, so no hexing for me (well not much).

Depends what you are going to demonstrate, Bullets. Can you do tall, dark and interesting?

Good evening Hermione, I enjoy Longwinded Dickens and his knobbly characters as well!
I trust that Mr Bumblewart, and the small Warts, are as well as can be expected.

Tis a rather tragic tale, Vesper, Christmas shopping is a cross one must bear but thank you kindly and I wish you good times as well.

(I am very cheery tonight (aided by a very nice red) as I have finished WERK until January - whooooo bloody hooo!)

Anonymous said...

Ah see - that's what happens when you don't get a chance to check my blog. If you did you'd know that one of the Warts has a badly broken arm having been knocked off bike!

Oh and word verification is cadge!

Hermione x

Unknown said...

Eeeek, Hermione! Sending the larger of the two Warts a ten ton hug. Tell him Aunty Minsk will be up to see him soon - that'll cheer him up, heh heh.

Debi said...

A ten ton hug may be more than he could handle, but I know he'd love it anyway. As would all the Warts.

Word ver is flashora. Nice name.

Unknown said...

Flashora Wart - almost Dickensian!

Saaleha said...

the best part of the holidays is how determined everyone is to 'have a good time', whatever the cost. Mothers especially. which means that spanking is reduced to growling.

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