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Birth of The Lone Dining Society

It was an afternoon and evening to remember. The Lone Dining Society was born at roughly 15uhr exactly, on Sunday 1st September as predicted. The birth was conducted with a Caesar Salad operation, as heshe was a fat little faggot. I should perhaps point out at this point that in the English language - as in the language spoken on the British Isles, faggot means ‘a bundle of sticks’, and can be used as a term of endearment towards young babies. Or at least one of my cousins always used to use this expression when referring to his first child. But perhaps one has to take into account the peculiarities of the Birmingham / Black County ‘black’ humour.  Faggot in the sense used in North America is a completely different sort of fanny pack, or kettle of fish. Fanny again having a completely different meaning in the USA as is understood in Elizabeth II’s great country. 

So the Lone Dining Society and I now share the same birthday, the party was a double celebration, commemorating the day I popped into the world and also as a ‘wetting of the baby’s head’ for little LDS. Of course, traditionally in England, the ‘Wetting of the Baby’s head’ was a custom purely reserved for the male of the species, probably as one of many excuses woven into our culture for the men to go out to the pub, free from any ‘restraining bits’ of their spouses and indulge in the nectar of the hop - in other words, to drink an excessive amount of beer. Interestingly enough, at this particular party there was a significant majority of females of the species, enough so to procure a very innocent question from a secondary school aged young man present at the festivity.

“Are most of your friends girls?” he asked, “There’s only one other man here.”

Of course, this was relatively early into the celebration and later more males did indeed arrive, five more in fact.

I was also, in point of fact, very comfortable and at ease - as happy as a pig in shit, also an English expression, although not one that Her Majesty would be caught uttering in public.

So in some sense, the wetting of the baby’s head - our new little miracle, The Lone Dining Society, was celebrated into the world with something like a 99% female majority, somehow turning the tradition on it’s head - although I have to say that in this delightful new adaptation of this long running tradition, much much less beer was partaken of. Possibly not a negative outcome considering the state of my head the day after.

And all things taken into account - the gender imbalance was neither any sort of problem or to be completely honest anything that I noticed - it was only the young man’s comments that drew my attention to it. And if you’re wondering what the point is to all of this, well there is no point, it’s just something that the young man’s question drew to my attention and then I wandered into through my meanderful writings.

It was I have to say a