Friday was also the day that I met the person I spent most of the weekend with owing to Glenn needing to work all weekend; this person's name is Sally, and she is lovely.
When I first arrived at the house Sally shares with her boyfriend Shaun and their 11 month old daughter Grace, I almost collapsed with jealousy; it is beautiful, on a gorgeous tree lined street in Solihull (where all the Haves liveand the place we just moved from), and has antique cream walls, dark oak furniture, chocolate leather sofa's and a garden that makes you think you should put on an outfit straight out of a bronte novel, play kiss-chase all day and feel genuinely decadent, anything pedestrian and BBQ like would be such a waste.
Sally and I went shopping on Saturday and I learned a valuable lesson in life; NEVER GO SHOPPING WITH SOMEONE WHO LIVES IN A £315,000 HOUSE BUT DOES NOT NEED TO WORK; NO GOOD CAN COME FROM IT. Don't get me wrong, Sally is very nice and although she obviously comes from money (bags and bags and bags of money) she never once made me feel like I was a have not (if only some of the other have's I have met could say the same) but there is something soul destroying about walking around shops with someone who just doesn't understand the phrase 'I'm buying this house you see and there is just no point in me trying it on because I can't buy it because I can't afford it', she would just look at me as if I was a bit tapped and say 'eh?', there were many 'eh?''s on Saturday..... By 3.00pm though we were sharing drinking a bottle of wine at a cafe outdoors with a great view of the castle and chatting as if we'd known each other for years, or at least days....
We talked about loads of things actually, mostly her daughter though, who is adorable and made me want one so badly I could practically hear my ovaries creaking into action. Unfortunately it made Glenn feel nauseous so I think my broodiness was badly timed. It proved one thing though; I am capable of being broody, that was something I wasn't sure about. I previously viewed babies with suspicion and EXTREME CAUTION, as they have a tendency to cry the very second they look into my eyes. It's if they can see that if their existence was up to me, they'd still be amoeba like in the bottom of a condom somewhere.
I picked up a valuable tip to getting rid of the pervert stare, that gaze that older men have when they see a pair of breasts on someone under 35 - just look them straight in the eye, lean over as if your going to tell them a secret and then say 'I haven't had a boob job, I'm breastfeeding and I'm trying to stop this weekend so they're huge and very painful, I've had to lever them into this dress with...' and I promise you, you'll only get that far into the explanation because Pervert Older Man will run to the bar so fast only his wife will remain, smiling at you with gratitude.
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