Blind Date: It Was No Laughing Matter, Or Was It? Part 2
When last we left Lorna, she was about to say something unfortunate to a dinner invitation after a horrible date…
I said, “Sure.” Curse you, Catholic Guilt and Middle-Child Syndrome for eliminating “no” from my extensive vocabulary!
So began a four-month dysfunctional relationship that had its low and lower points.
Brian continued his longing for Olga/Ingrid/Ice Princess while dating and berating me.
He told me that Ms. Nordic Flawlessness took “Her” enchanted goose-down comforter in the break-up. He loved that comforter. Evidently, Mr. Unlucky-In-Icelandic-Love couldn’t get over losing “It” either.
Brian knew I sewed. He decided that, together, we would make a goose-down comforter just like the one they shared together. If he couldn’t have the comfort of “Her” in his life, at least he wanted a comforter like “Hers” in his life.
To him, the process was simple. He designed the comforter after ”Hers” and bought the materials. I just had to follow his instructions.
Ms. Icelandic Queen’s Comforter had long channels to keep the down evenly distributed, so Brian’s Nordic Fantasy Comforter had the same design. He said the channels should be sewn prior to the feather insertion process. I said dumping the down into one large sack would be easier. Because he was a private-school-educated man and much smarter than a woman who sewed for many years, we followed his plan. I brought my Singer sewing machine to his apartment and dutifully sewed five perfectly spaced channels, leaving only one end opened so that the feathers could be inserted. Brian special-ordered 5 bags of expensive goose-down feathers to be stuffed into the channels.
Brian’s Plan: Brian opens Bag 1 of goose-down while I hold Channel 1 open; Brian puts the open end of the goose-down bag in the channel and empties it; I close off the end of Channel 1 and sew it closed. The whole process is repeated and Brian has Nordic Dream Girl fantasies under his very own goose-down comforter.
Reality: Brian opened Bag 1 and immediately released the vacuum-sealed goose-down into the air rather than into Channel 1. It was as if a bomb was silently detonated by the influx of oxygen and the tiny feathers exploded.
Goose-down doesn’t care about gravity. As he was stuffing the bagged feathers down the narrow channel, the feathers resisted captivity. Those feathers saw more action that afternoon than they ever did on migrating geese. The tiny feathers were everywhere but in Channel 1 of Icelandic Queen’s Pseudo Comforter. Since he had more facial hair than I, Brian’s face was covered with little white goose feathers. Whatever dignity he thought he had was completely obliterated with white fluffy feathers poking out of his nose and ears, dangling off of his eyebrows and eyelashes, sticking to his glasses, and clinging onto every whisker on his face. He resembled an unusually agitated Snowy Man-Owl.
Brian was furious.
Production of the Fantasy Comforter halted. A vacuum cleaner, fan, and open windows were all part of the plan to rid his apartment of the evidence of what looked like a ritualistic sacrifice of a flock of geese.
Was this the end of the dysfunctional relationship? You’d think so, wouldn’t you?