Tit Monday

Un ami me fait passer ce message, à l'approche du printemps et en hommage à un petit nom que l'on m'a donné il y a plusieurs années maintenant...

"...as soon as the first day of spring comes: pow!
Love is out the window
and lust is in. And the first day of spring is, of
course, 'Tit Monday'.
Ah, Tit Monday. It's not that far off now, that
glorious day when,
heading into work on the bus, or walking to the Tube,
or sitting on the
train, you find yourself suddenly chirpier than you
have been in months.
You find yourself smiling at strangers again. There is
a mild
involuntary tumescence in your trousers that comes and
goes throughout
the morning with the comforting regularity of a
heartbeat.

And then you get a text around lunchtime from a mate
which says: "At
last, Tit Monday!" And you instantly understand why
you are so happy.
For Tit Monday is that special day in the year when,
for the first time,
the temperature rises above that magical point which
causes girls
getting dressed in the morning to decide to show a bit
of skin.

After months of dull colours and chunky knit, the
world's birds suddenly
dive into last summer's wardrobe (they've not had
chance to buy this
season's stuff) and chuck it on without a thought.
Your urban landscape
is suddenly lightened with acres of naked arm and leg
and, after many
dark months of burrowing, breasts rising to the
surface like moles at
dusk.

Big breasts in white work shirts straining at the
buttons. Small breasts
braless in vest tops, the nipples frotted by ribby
fabrics. Breasts in
summer dresses bouncing in the distance so that they
catch your eye
before you even notice there is someone wearing them.
Breasts nudging
out from the crowd at traffic islands, quivering to
cross the road...

And you know it is nearly summer. For previous
generations, the arrival
of spring was heralded by the sound of the first
cuckoo. For us, it is
Tit Monday.

Not that it always falls on a Monday. Like Easter, Tit
Monday is a
moveable feast. Last year it fell on a Friday. Friday
29 April, to be
precise, when temperatures maxed out at 22.1C after
nothing much above
16C all year. It last fell on a Monday in 2004, when
temperatures leapt
to 22C on 24 April.

And then, of course, there is Tit Monday Night. You
see, in early
summer, temperatures drop off very dramatically when
night falls (Tit
Friday 2005 dropped away to a parky 11.8C). But the
dollies are not
prepared. Slightly stunned by the morning heat, they
drag out the summer
clothes but forget to bring a cardie (a mistake they
will not make again
until next year), so that when they're all standing
outside All Bar One
after work celebrating the arrival of spring, their
barely covered
nipples have no protection from the cold. It's like a
Bring-and-Buy sale
where everyone has brought hat pegs. It's like a
prog-rock gig where,
instead of lighters, everyone is holding up nipples.

So when will Tit Monday fall this year? Will you be
the first to text
your mates with the announcement? Do not shoot your
bolt too early.
There will be false starts. You will smell fresh cut
grass and see a
couple of early starters and feel compelled to declare
Tit Monday. But
your more level-headed friends will tell you to hold
your horses, keep
your powder dry, don't fire until you see the whites
of their bra
straps.

As the poet said: one bold Northern slapper in a
bikini doth not a
summer make."