Friday 25 May 2007

A warning for half term

Normally it's the tennis coaches who come in for the attention. Never ones to miss out on a good cliche, the women round here, largely deprived of male company during the day - "Honestly, it's like living in a lesbian-only community," complains Vicky - gravitate to the courts to salivate over the teachers, all tight curls, trim bodies and tighter shorts, who twist and leap with precise elegance in their conscientious demonstrations of the perfect backhand return.

Not Bad Lindy. Bad Lindy fell for her son's football coach. Normally, Bad Lindy discards men like empty Wotsits packets, consuming the contents, additives and all, in one gulp, then licking her fingers and moving on to the next.

That's intimidating enough. So Bad Lindy in love is like one of the seven wonders of the world - the colossus of Rhodes, say - being brought back from the past, animated, and set on your trail.

He was nineteen, slightly built, tremendously earnest about his job, focused only on inspiring the boys a generation down and, who knows, being the first to spot the next Beckham or Rooney. She was Amazonian, loud, and simply there. To start off with, she appeared only at the beginning and end of the training sessions, car parked close to the wire mesh of the school playground where the training took place, window down, enormous sunglasses raking his shorts like the Jodrell Bank Telescope searching for signs of life.

Then, she began staying for the entire session. By now, you could see that her presence was getting to him. He'd be blowing the whistle, or doing a bit of fancy demonstration footwork then start nervously as he recollected her presence, and gaze away towards the parked cars while the little boys clustered round him clamoured for his attention.

A few weeks later, she took to leaning against one of the fence posts and eating things like outsize bananas or juicy peaches and within a few weeks, his concentration was completely shot.

Then it was his birthday. She'd got her furiously embarrassed son to ask the date. As the coach emerged at the end of the session, darting glances right and left, then relaxing as he became convinced he'd escaped, she appeared suddenly, holding a large present and a cake.

"For you," she said.

"No," he said. "It's very kind, but I just can't."

She continued to advance. He backed, no doubt thanking God when his hand, feeling behind him, closed round the the handle of his car.

The last anyone ever saw of him was his car, accelerating, while Bad Lindy pursued him on foot, present and cake still in her outstretched arms.

Being Bad Lindy, it took her almost no time to recover. Maybe she was a little less buxom for a while, her breasts slightly less perky. But being Bad Lindy, she didn't let it cramp her style. Soon she'd found another target - a leftover husband at a party - and was fully occupied again.

But sometimes I wonder if she doesn't have the occasional dream. It's full of passing, slide tackles and penalties but, above all, scoring, scoring, scoring.

11 comments:

debio said...

I wonder at the resilience of these man-eaters, who see the lack of encouragement as mere shyness.
Presumably they have no fear of rejection - not that I would, of course, be attracted to a fit, young, lithe, wrinkle-free sports coach - oh no, not me...

Omega Mum said...

It's amazing how they manage it. I just couldn't do it. However lithe and gorgeous the young, male....Uh oh. Time for a cold shower again.

wakeupandsmellthecoffee said...

I couldn't imagine coming on to my son's football coach. He's about 20 stone. Now, if he lost a bit of weight? I mean, I am alone (and available) all week... but then I'd have to shave my legs.

Omega Mum said...

If he can't see his stomach, he won't notice your legs. Or I'll ask Bad Lindy to trap something a bit lighter for you.

lady macleod said...

fit, young, leaping? There was leaping? sigh Fortunately the cold water is always on here.

Omega Mum said...

There was leaping. Not that I saw it.....But the imagination is a wonderful thing.

Anonymous said...

I had a friend just like 'Bad Lindy' once. In fact it turned out she could be just like anyone, if you asked her. I don't know what happened to her 'cause I mysteriously lost touch with her years ago!

dulwichmum said...

I just love the idea of "Bad Lindy". Ha, ha.

Unknown said...

Has Bad Lindy ever read the Rules book? You know, that American book about how women really shouldn't chase men? Tell her to get a copy. Geesh. She might have stood a chance had she gone about it the right way.

But maybe she isn't wanting the prize? Maybe she just wants the chase?

I'm a teacher, and I must say I have never had a parent chase me. Neither do my male colleagues. Must have something to do with your 'lesbian community'. Too bad there isn't an equivalent 'gay community' somewhere...I'd move there immediately!

Snuffy

Omega Mum said...

I can't help feeling the world needs a few larger than life characters in it - like Bad Lindy

Omega Mum said...

Nice to see you here, Snuffles (do you mind if I abbreviate). I think the key thing here is subject - I teach music and the only looks I get from parents are ones of horror - but that's the recorder for you. I'll pass Bad L. details of that book - though I think she might just hit me with it.