If I ever write a memoir, this account, which illustrates the law of inverse beauty in respect of voices, may well be in it. I was in my twenties and working for a travel agency ....... Funny how foolish we can be in our youth ..... and does it ever change?
We both lusted over the secretary of one of our corporate customers, or more accurately, we fantasised over the images her voice invoked. We spent hours trying to summon up courage to invite her for a coffee, or looking for feeble excuses to meet her in person. One day an opportunity arose for a document to be delivered, we spun a coin, I won, and was burning tyre rubber on my way before the coin had been pocketed, as we'd struck an agreement that whichever of us met her first had first shot at mounting a seduction campaign. Previous clandestine reconnaissance paid off and I reached her office building in record time. Standing in front of the object of our fantasies I lost my tongue and my nerve, barely gave the woman a glance, forgot the carefully planned pick-up lines, dropped the ticket wallet, and ran. Only in the lift on the way out did it dawn on me that the dowdy middle aged woman whose office door bore the name of the person over whom we'd been drooling for weeks, and the sexy sounding secretary, were the same person.
Martin was older and more streetwise than I, but gullible, and I was determined to turn this into an opportunity to be 'one up' on him. How I would achieve this was as yet undefined. I imagined telling him that she had accepted my invitation to a romantic evening out. As erotic images of what might have been raced through my mind, I raced through a 'stop' sign and my 75cc. moped collided with a Sunbeam Rapier. Nothing was injured except my pride and left kneecap, both of which still trouble me to this day from time to time.
Much later, back at the office, Martin asked what she was like. Having described her sensuous beauty until Martin was drooling at the mouth, I refused to answer his questions as to future assignations to meet. I implied that I needed time to gather up the courage to ask her out. A few mornings later, Martin walked in and gave me a look that should have ensured I never wrote this. I merely told him he should have kept his word. After that, we had a better understanding.