When someone offers to pull the chair out for you at a dinner table, the least decent thing to do is, sit.
Alas ! That was the last reaction I had when someone did the same to me. It was like he slapped my face with molten lava and then aired me through it. Yes, I get uncomfortable when men go out of their way to make me feel, erm, for the lack of a better word, delicate. Not that I do weights in the gym every alternate day. But for some reason, I could never conform to these ghostly rituals handed down to us.
The incident at hand is where I went frolicking about to a luncheon with a friend(read male friend). As we entered the seating area, the footman swiftly flew behind my back, towards the left and pulled the breadth of a splendid dining chair out. He…
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