A weekend with Best Mate (and Best Mate's Fiance) is never an ordinary affair, nor would I wish it to be. Thus I present a picture-based diary of the last couple of days, complete with quotes, anecdotes and discussion points for the keenly interested.
During the initial phase of 'becoming inebriated', Anton and I decided to spy on the neighbours out of the bedroom window, soon realising that, rather than hiding our actions from potential tattle-tales, we were illuminating ourselves for all to see with an exciting lit-window-based framing device. Cue even cunninger plan to hide our shame with a curtain, thus transforming ourselves into a pantomime curtain beast.
After which sparkling success, Best Mate blew our minds with a stunningly convincing impression of Plato at the local rave. It was beautiful, man.
Shortly after which we perfected our joint impression of a Push-Me-Pull-You.
Then the conversation turned to Wicked, which we have been planning to go and see together since, oh, I think January, when Best Mate began reading the book version and promised faithfully to finish as fast as she possibly could so we could see it.
Now, the relative reading speeds of Best Mate and myself are infamous. I read like Johnny Five from Short Circuit, while Best Mate (thanks to her brain rebelling against enforced reading at university) goes at a sedate, steady, nan-like pace. One evening, for example, while reading in tandem, I completed 63 pages of my book to her 13.
Me: Have you finished Wicked yet?
Best Mate shakes her head and looks shifty
Me: Oh my GOD but you promised you'd hurry! How can y....... you are hurrying, aren't you?
And finally I bought a fluffy coat that matched Best Mate's fluffy coat and we did snuggly hug poses for a while before launching me off on my most badly executed weekend travelling mission thus far. It's a miracle I'm home, let me tell you. Let me also tell you that bus drivers lie and should not be trusted to know their own routes.
7 comments:
Does this mean I'm no longer under some kind of obligation to buy the coat for you?
I love the coats, but probably best not to wear it around me, I would stroke you a lot and that is just wrong. Or I would tempt you to swap it for a whole block of cheddar.
Tim - Yes it does. But I still would have liked to see you go in there and mince about looking for it.
W*P*D - I was once mislaid in a posh restaurant, at the age of about 3, and found a little later clinging to a lady's fur coat, sucking my thumb for all I was worth. I understand the compulsion, and this coat really is the Right Kind of Soft. The cheddar is, however, tempting.
And bus drivers totally lie!
A personal favourite is the automated voice that says 'The destination of this bus has changed'.
And it just stops there! No further information required apparently.
Keeerassh!
I asked this one if it was going to Clapham Junction, it said yes and then went nowhere near it! He turfed me out on the green, at which I protested, and then he DENIED ever saying he went there and pointed vaguely down a dark street claiming the station was only 3 minutes' walk away. IT WAS NOT.
I was so angry on your behalf at that bus liebag. But then angry in a fluffy coat never looks too menacing.
I loved having you over!!! We must do that loads.
I am reading Wicked at a chapter a day now. Just for you. Phew it is a challenge!
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