I accidentally used Wallington’s eyeliner pencil to fill in my footy tips for the Easter long weekend. It was claggy and went blunt instantly, like writing with a wet briquette. My tips were all smears and hieroglyphics.
Until Wallington realised what had happened. Then it was a crime scene.
‘Tell me you didn’t just do that’ she said.
‘I just did that.’
Our Easter long weekend had been good up until then. Margaritas on the balcony facing West. Lively chat. No blood.
I thought all pencils were HB. Apparently not. According to Wikipedia a pencil is a writing instrument usually constructed of a solid pigment core inside a protective casing which prevents the core from leaving marks on the user’s hand during use.
Eyeliner pencils don’t strictly do that shit.
By the time I realised I’d done something wrong I noticed there was slop all over my footy tips and black stuff all over my hands, my margarita glass, and the bar. When I looked into the middle distance there was black stuff across the sky. Or maybe it was on my glasses?
Wallington was not impressed. She doesn’t use much makeup and apparently this pencil (sorry, eyeliner) was the last pointy thing in her arsenal.
‘Linda bought me that’ Wallington said. Shouted, really. Linda knows about makeup. I’m guessing now that she didn’t buy it for me to fill in footy tips.
‘You are unbelievable!’ Wallington declared. ‘That’s so annoying. I’m going downstairs.’ She grabbed her margarita and left.
‘I’ll sharpen that pencil again with an axe’ I promised. Tomorrow is another day.
What’s even more annoying is that I apparently picked Geelong to beat Hawthorn. It was hard to tell, looking at that kindergarten page of carnage.
Anyway. So it goes, as Vonnegut wrote all those years ago.
In a month, fate willing, we’ll be in a hotel in Hong Kong on our way to a wedding in England that has been called off, though the relationship remains happy and happening.
Last weekend we were down in Tasmania for a friend’s surprise birthday party.
This weekend we were down at Culburra Beach with friends and their baby girl.
The eyeliner pencil, having writ, clumsily, moves on.