Everyone, at some point, has fashioned for them ‘rep’ – a reputation. The effort is collective. The subject participates primarily but not exclusively – friends, then strangers, contribute. Imagine ‘rep’ as three sets/circles , overlapping as in a Venn diagram. At center – the intersection, is the rep – for better or worse.
It’s not a silky segue, this…, but so what? This isn’t a treatise, it’s a gathering of hunches, neither daring nor notorious, by a friendly stranger – about Sparky and Moddy.
Self identifying as ‘wench’ is a one word autobiography. What were wenches but double xx landlubbers whose piracy took place in alehouses and could make jolly roger pirate’s faces either blanch in fear or go scarlet with mortification. Real life wenches take not ‘wench’ as slur but as high commendation.
Now, it’s not a secret… guys like racket and rumpus, and fireworks, no matter the source. And just as females are attracted to ‘bad boys’, so also are guys easily lured by ‘bad’ girls… females who wear ‘bad’ like makeup, glitter… and scent; girls that can get guys to lose their senses… babes without either sophistication or compunction. Coo-Coo-Cah-choo chicks brimming with uninhibited wildness. Dolls impetuous, without care, having never made acquaintance of any of the following… ‘repressed’, ‘subdued’, ‘reflective’, ‘restrained’, or chary.
Had I, as a young man, been given over to Sparky’s wiles we would have made rockets blast thunder, smoke, and red glare. But it would have been something of a short ride. As certain of the kicks, I’d be every bit as certain of tiring of waking up every morning in the local county jail, hungover and charged with several counts of miscellaneous misdemeanors – some aggravated.
A problem here hovers around Moddy. How approach the ‘worldly’…cosmopolitan? There is not evidence available suggesting a foolproof strategy.
Planning seems useless; improvisation… dangerous. And stammering… a death knell Woman of the world are so called because they reign over it… not royally but by force of personality forged by experience, i.e., things seen, heard, smelt, tasted and touched.
I have it in mind Mod’s on a first name basis with about a dozen maitre d’s, six culinary geniuses, eleven sommeliers, nine concierges, and was twice, consulted by Grey Goose about improving their product. Mod, I suspect, is very much the person who knows people who know…
That Mod had been company at most all of Western Europe’s grandest estate manors – with fountains, stables, paths, croquet lawns and electric blue/emerald green peacocks chirping, would be, I’d imagine, a given… and a natural habitat.. And it’s the least surprised I’d be… hearing Moddy had broken the hearts of at least one Prince and a few Dukes.
I’d lay a grand’s wager… were I ever introduced to her, I would be not be taken aback, but would be made certain I was right about near all my hunches of her.
It’s a strong suspicion of mine that both ladies have their own style of ‘it’; and both masters of the ‘gimlet eye’. And I’ve no doubt of being much too easily beguiled by either.
And there you have them… as best I can make of them.