Lost in Translation - By Glen's Life
Hello there Glowless fans – it’s me, Glen from Glen’s Life, here attempting to break into your womanly world and write a ‘He did what?” post, but with a she instead of a he. What could possibly go wrong with that?
Well actually I know full well what could go wrong due to how hard it has been to get approval for this post from my wife, Jo. I’ve spent hours trying to think of something my lovely lady has done that won’t get me castrated for revealing. Already vetoed are two Superloo incidents and an embarrassing sunburn tale.
Oh don’t shake your heads at me ladies, I’m not whipped I’m just married. They may come up in the same results in an online Thesaurus check, but they are actually quite different. When you ladies are having one last drive around the church to exercise your Bride’s prerogative to be late while smiling smugly because you never have to give another blowjob, we Grooms are in the vestry, with a Vicar triumphantly shouting “You won’t be needing that anymore my son” as he removes our backbones.
It’s a fact - deal with it. We have.
Anyway, it was the 1990’s and I lived in Italy…
It was a stiflingly hot day in the historic Italian city of Pompeii and my Girlfriend (as she was back then) and I had taken it all in, and tired ourselves out with the wonder of it all. The Sun had baked us to crispy perfection.
We smiled at each other as we reached my clapped out Fiesta with rust holes that worked as the only air conditioning, and strapped in for the journey home. Only the car would not start. The battery was flat again.
Being a gentleman I climbed out and my future wife sat herself in the driving seat. For the next 15 minutes I pushed the little car around the heat trap car park as Jo tried to kill me by slamming on the breaks, much to the disgust of the friendly German man who had joined me after 10 minutes. Eventually, my lady admitted that she just did not know how to jump start a car and was not prepared to learn at this point, which mildly infuriated the increasingly less friendly German.
I had to get in and try to start the car as my new friend and Jo pushed.
In the end Jo got in next to me as the brilliant little man pushed me with his own car and YES, Houston we have lift off!
I turned the car and asked Jo if she knew how to say thank you in German, and she reliably informed me that danke schön would be perfect.
“Okay,” I said “shout that to our friend as we drive past” – I didn’t want to slow down now that we had got moving.
And so, my lovely young woman wound down her window and in her best Oxfordshire accent shouted…
“Thank yooooooooo”
And I had to try and drive on Italian roads while banging my own head on the dashboard!
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Since leaving the Royal Navy and settling down with the above mentioned bilinguist, he's fathered two strapping young sons that he writes stories for. It was after friends kept pressuring him to write a book that he did the next best thing and started an awesome blog.
His most coveted literary award was a Sugar On Top blog award given to him by me, just so he would put a bit of pale pink on his sidebar. I may have just made that bit up though.
Next Week: Mich's husband is full of beans
Send your S/He Did What!? submission to Glowless@wheresmyglow.com
(You don't have to be a blogger, or even to ask first, just send it in!)
(You don't have to be a blogger, or even to ask first, just send it in!)
