The Continuing Adventures of The Scottish Geisha
Chapter 74, Installment 3: A Most Scottish Blade
Birthdays are always an excuse for The Scottish Geisha and MVP to have an adventure. For MVP’s recent birthday they took off to indulge in the three S’s: Sun, Surf and Shopping. They ended up in Capitola, California, of all places, meandering through local shops and soaking up the quaint atmosphere.
“What I am saying,” The Scottish Geisha said, “Is that all of these gifty crafty shops are lost on me.”
MVP eyed the tye-dyed racks of a clothing shop with horror. “I see what you mean.”
“Nobody will ever buy me what I REALLY want,” The Scottish Geisha lamented.
“If I have told you once, I have told you a million times, you simply cannot have a sword from Lord of the Rings,” MVP scolded. “There are just some people who should never own sharp, lethal objects.”
Before The Scottish Geisha could launch into an age old argument, they walked headlong into the very next shop without looking in the window or glancing up at the store front signage.
“I am,” announced The Scottish Geisha in hushed, awed tones, “In paradise.”
The Outpost, 110 Capitola Avenue, is a store dedicated solely to swords, knifes and other lethal (in MVP’s mind) collectables.
“Oh look,” MVP said dryly. “It’s the sword Glamdring, the sword of Gandalf.”
The Scottish Geisha held out her hand to the proprietor
who had hastened over to assist them.
“May I?” she asked sweetly.
The owner seemed surprised. “It’s heavy,” he warned.
“I know,” The Scottish Geisha replied in dulcet tones.
The owner carefully removed the sword from the mounting on the wall and handed it, gingerly, over to the waiting Scottish Geisha. Her left hand closed delicately around the hilt.
“Ah, left handed is it?” he asked in vaguely British Isle tones.
The Scottish Geisha smiled. “Not really.”
Carelessly, she flicked the heavy blade, spinning in mid-air, to her right hand, causing the owner to step back in alarm.
MVP also took a few warning steps back.
The Scottish Geisha turned to two young boys, both who had been watching the proceedings with great interest. “Please step back beyond the counter, won’t you?”
“Why?” asked one of them.
“So I don’t draw and quarter you.”
The MVP hurriedly pulled the boys back out of range.
The Scottish Geisha swung the blade expertly in a full, 360-degree arc. The tiny shop barely had room but she managed it.
“Lovely,” she commented, “Superb balance.”
The owner was completely nonplused. “Would you like to see Aragorn’s sword, Anduril, then?”
“This one requires a completely different fighting stance,” she remarked casually as she touched the owner playfully on the shoulder with the tip of the blade.
MVP decided the owner had had enough excitement for one day. “Dear girl, please don’t spear the nice man,” she said soothingly.
“Perish the thought. My father would adore a dagger, might you have any coming?” The Scottish Geisha asked as she continued to test the blade for weight and balance.
The owner edged behind the counter, further out of harm’s way. “November,” he said. Daggers from LOTR, including Legolas, are coming in November.”
The Scottish Geisha expertly inverted the sword and offered him the hilt. “Excellent, we shall return.”
MVP waited to exhale until the left the shop. “Why
didn’t you buy one?” she asked, genuinely curious.
The Scottish Geisha tossed back her amber locks as they reflected gold
in the warm afternoon sun.
“Not nearly as satisfying as being given one as a gift,” she explained, adding, “He was a nice chap, that owner, don’t you think?”
“You made him nervous,” MVP pointed out.
“I make all men nervous,” The Scottish Geisha reminded her.
“Well, there’s nervous because it’s you and then there is nervous because it’s you holding a lethal blade,” MVP remarked.
“He was British, the owner?” The Scottish Geisha asked.
MVP shook her head. “Not sure but something like that.”
Well, one thing is for sure, he wasn’t Scottish,” The Scottish Geisha said.
“How do you know?”
“Because,” The Scottish Geisha laughed, “I understood everything he said.”
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