If you could see what I can see

Hadn’t seen Jimmy for an age.  He was doing the shopfronts in Kirkwall, in a downpour.  He used to be at the dancing – and made a good fist of it too.  He asked me if he should pout or lick his lips.  He’s a hoot, although he hadn’t heard of VM’s ‘Cleaning Windows’.  I had just been on the ropes.  For I had been coaxed into the only emporium in Orkney that sells men’s suits.  Within fifteen minutes I’d been fitted / pampered / tried on things / had a vigorous mince.  On a roll the Current Mrs Creel then took me into another outlet to buy me a suitcase !!  All on a Monday too.  However, we were already past the high point which was dancing Entente Florale in the Toon Hall.  Everyone did so well – a dance that’s very rarely danced.  To cap it all it was followed by Farewell to Balfour Road.  There wis nae soup in the café, met Phyllis in the Gents outfitters.  Back at HQ CMC now has the lid up and is playing me some Erik Satie.  A high bar has been set so early in the week.  I’m thinking of soaking my algorithms in a pail of water overnight.  I feel no better for having divulged.