Quentin

Continuing the Alpha(Bet) males - The life in my men in my life:
July challenge.

Q is for Quentin,

The remarkably talented artist, Quentin Blake, and in particular his superb interpretation of Roald Dahl's characters, each as my mind's eye imagines them. A few deft strokes of his pen and voila! Characterisation, emotion, humour, he manages it all.

I did know a Quentin - a boyfriend's son, lovely boy - No!! That would be so wrong.

However, I will tell you a little story about someone whose surname started with Q.

There was a time in my recent past when protesting in London was a growing sport. Q was 'something in the city'. He knew some of the people in our group, but I hadn't met him before.
A group of us were doing our bit in Parliament Square one evening when Q, in his pin-striped suit, hopped out of a taxi cab and came to join us. After chatting for a short while, he spread the Financial Times on the ground quite close to me, lay down, covered himself in The Times and went to sleep. In the morning he stood up, hailed a cab and went straight back to work.

The next time I met Q was at a dressy do, he was walking straight towards me, I smiled and said hello. He looked at me blankly.

"Hi, I'm Amanda" I said.

"Sorry who?"

"Aha!" I said. "You probably don't recognise me with these clothes on."

"What?" he asked.

"Do you behave like this with all women after you've slept with them?"

"I beg your pardon, I've no idea what you think I've done, but let me tell you...."

I butted in to save him further embarrassment. "It's me, Amanda, you slept next to me in Parliament Square a couple of weeks ago!"

He turned bright red and mumbled something about not recognising me.
I still don't know what he thinks of me, but I can guess.

Whatever you want Q, What ever you like.