Murray was once sitting in a park in Finland.
It was not a particularly nice park but it was populated by several people enjoying their noonday meals.
Of particular interest to Murray was a man and his dog. The man was of average build and the dog was not particularly playful but they caught Murray's eye nonethless.
"Would you like some of my smoked fish?", offered Murray to his new friends.
The man pretended not to speak English, which was almost certainly because the Finns are notoriously cold and standoffish. Inside he longed to taste of Murray's fish and even considered taking out his bottle of birchbark-flavoured vodka to share with Murray as an accompaniment but pride and his national character would not permit.
The man's dog was another story, though. He was not bound by Finnish custom and plainly showed his enthusiasm for Murray's fish with a fine wagging of his tail, hopping about excitedly and even letting out a playful bark. His owner was most embarassed by this display and started leading him away slowly. Slowly, as not to cast suspicion that he was in any way anxious to get away but still firm in his desire to be elsewhere.
Smarting at the missed opportunity to make a friend, Murray wondered to himself where the man and dog would be going. More importantly, where would he himself be going, as the day was drawing on and he had not secured himself lodgings for the night. Famously thrifty, Murray was certain he could make a friend to impose upon before sundown but hadn't considered the particular difficulties of such in Helsinki.
Murray thought about his predicament. He needed a coffee much more than he needed some dog eating his now foul smelling smoked fish. Finland. A country, with a language so difficult it made his eyes water. Not much made Murray's eyes water, but he was bored, so he decided to make a list of all situations and events that made his eyes water.
Pulling out a note book, and licking the end of his pencil he began his list. He cast a furtive look around the coffee shop he had entered. He hoped anyone watching him, would look fondly on him imaging him jotting down poetry. And in his own way he was a poet. Except he wasn't and he knew it. So perhaps his was delusional?
Things that make my eyes water, by Murray, in pencil. He scrawled. He actually wrote down 'in pencil' He was the only adult he knew that wrote in pencil and he was proud of that fact.
Having written the title he was already baulking at the task of actually making the list. To keep up the image of deeply interesting man in coffee shop, he drew a stick man, with mad hair.
Why the hair was mad, nobody knows. Perhaps Murray was mad at his own hair, blaming it for his inability to make friends in Helsinki.
As Murray began to miss the dog (because animals have no hair prejudices), he decided to draw a canine companion for his stick figure.
Alas, the dog was never fully realized on the page, as Murray's discount pencil's tip snapped, fell and rolled away. Why had Murray applied so much pressure? He was accustomed to writing in pencil and this sort of rookie error should have been well in his past. He cursed himself for not bringing a sharpener or back-up pencil with him.
Going through the small bag he kept tied to his belt, Murray noted he had an ink pen with him but also recalled that this one was prone to unsightly blobs of ink being depositted on the page. "No sense even trying", he thought, thrusting the pen back in the leatherette sack and harrumphing perhaps too loudly. As if the pagan gods Murray occasionally worshipped were having sport with him, he now noted that his shoe had become untied. Supressing a sob, Murray knealt to deal with this latest setback.
"Curse this luck! Oh why won't the spirit of Kalev sweep me up on eagle's wings and fly me away from this damnable situation?"
Murray's little outburst helped calm him and he finally finished tying his shoelaces with hands made wet with Foster tears.
Suddenly, like a ray of sunshine through rain clouds, Murray's day brightened with the realization that the first installment of his previously penciled "things that make my eyes water...in pencil" had an instant topic. The joy felt was unimaginable...which made topic number 2 currently out of reach. What to do?
Murray needed to commit this observation to paper -and fast! (As Murray is prone to forget things within minutes -such as promises) Owing to the incident, he needed a new writing instrument and so asked the young woman behind the counter if she might have a pen or, preferably, a pencil.
The girl unfortunately couldn't understand what Murray was saying, as he was excited and speaking too fast for her limited knowledge of English. Murray pointed his finger as though it were a pen and started stabbing at his notebook, as if to say he wanted to punch a hole through it more than to write something pithy with elegance. Then Murray pointed to the girl and raising his eyebrows, showing that he wanted her to make some sort of contribution.
Alas, she didn't think that she wanted anything to do with stabbing as her shift was about to end. As Murray gesticulated ever more wildly, she began to come under the mistaken impression that he was looking to employ some form of stabbing -or perhaps thrusting- motion with her. Did this mad foreigner wish to suggest that they should stab people together or did he mean that he wished to thrust his pelvic regions near hers as her shift came to an end? How would she know which he meant and how would she then respond?
Contributors:
| Matsoo | 2005-04-07 |
| Tom of Finland | 2005-04-07 |
| Swiss babe | 2005-04-14 |
| Toronto Female | 2005-04-26 |
| Tom, formerly of Finland | 2005-04-29 |
| Mats | 2005-05-05 |
| Incognito | 2005-05-11 |
| Stinky McHelsinki | 2005-06-27 |
All stories