A Note on Pauses and the Borrowed art of Intimidation

Was treating myself by reward shopping at borders for all the continuous hard work done last week. Must shamelessly admit spent hundreds of quid on books , dvds music et al and had a hard time walking back without escaping the curious expression by fellow human beings. The dvds are littered all over my place; have to catalogue them at the earliest . Most of them are already those watched a several tens of times. Am anticipating a telling session by P.
Found finding Forrester for fiver and it evoked the same emotions as it had ages back. Damn good.

Among other interesting things, me and C had a lengthy discussion about  Naipaul with a charmingly seductive woman in the lounge. She said , Naipaul was like Michael Schumacher , although very talented, his arrogance would make her scorn at him. I had to give a lengthy lecture, between aptly chosen pauses to sip wine, about why humanity in general should have the basic courtesy to separate the writer from his work.

The next day we ran into a bunch of Americans during the drinking session and we chose to needle them a bit for fun. C who chooses to speak as carefully as I choose my pauses, when asked about something by an American lady, replied in the manner as if he had achieved a hundred nirvanas,  I find it hard to have a conversation, when you say American literature, you should be specific, unless we have agreed to discuss on a single topic, which would then justify a collective common during the course of talk. I am sitting here wondering , if you mean Latin American or Canadian or beat poetry?
A two-seconder pause.
You should stop extending yourselves so nominally to a whole couple of continents.

I was muttering bugger a few times under my breath. It was a straight lift off the story from that charming lady I had mentioned about earlier . Apparently Naipaul had similarly intimidated a bunch of dozy Indian writers in a convention or discussion or something in India after his Nobel. The contention being to be specific about the word colonialism.

C when I enviously looked at him, was glinting like a university male hitting on a girl.

Bugger.

And while returning we agreed that we are generally doing good, and have to polish off a few edges to consummate intimidation to the level of fine art.