Seeing as party season is upon us, I thought I’d drag out an old poem I penned when contemplating a rather inappropriate proposition a couple of years ago.
If I found you in my stocking
It wouldn't be all that shocking
Willing, able and hearty
For the Christmas party
You could be my date
To be a friendly mate
And seeing as you're single
We could even mingle
With a possible proposal
Aimed at your disposal
Here's a little clue
A hotel room for two
It wouldn't be all that shocking
If I found you in my stocking
So that was summit old. Now for summit news.
Since writing this poem, a lot has happened in my personal sphere. I am well and truly sin-saily single, with promising potential, should a rampant stud come sauntering past. Not such a wham bam phishing notion as I was once led to believe. Why, only this week, a rather nice young chap even offered to accompany me to a coastal retreat. Me finks he was coached by the great guys I work with, but who cares. It certainly made my day, even if tasks pending left the unqualified offer dangling somewhere between the fax machine and filing cabinets.
It was, without a doubt, the best articulated and realistically engineered offer I've had in years.
