Friend-Laura strikes again.
I honestly don’t know how she does it.
Having recently broken up with the toss-pot, married dude that she claimed she had been in a ‘relationship’ with for several years (Friday 28th May 2010), she’s managed to land herself yet another one.
If I were a judge on ‘Britains Next Top Cheating Rat-scum’, I have to say (and I’m choking on my Twiglets to have to admit this) I’d be voting the last one, (let’s call him Crapbag-P for the purposes of identification) out of the running for the dubious title, on the grounds that, in comparison to this latest joker, he’s a regular stand-up guy.
He at least had the decency to tell Friend-Laura that he was married. He also used to go to the effort of putting on little ‘skits’ where he used to cast himself in the role of ‘Anguished Maker of Agonising Decisions’. He bought her a few pretty cracking presents and used to take her to some pretty decent hotels.
This one, (let’s call him Crapbag-B) lied through his teeth and claimed he was well single (and that).
He got caught out when Friend-Laura invited herself round to give his digs the once over and a woman answered the door. Crapbag-B then apparently tried to claim that the door opening, pleasantly smiling lady was the cleaner.
The door opening, pleasantly smiling lady rapidly became mini-vacuum cleaner brandishing, husband battering lady.
Friend-Laura, the vodka and the tissues arrived at my door shortly afterwards which, of course, I understand.
The bit I don’t understand was the burning question that she had dragged her dishevelled self, half way across the county to ask me.
“What” she snuffled, “do you think I should do?”
Supressing the urge to ask whether she had considered some sort of residential care order, I pointed out that when you hear hoof-beats; you’re probably better off looking for horses, not zebras.
On that basis I advised Friend-Laura that she’d be best served getting the hell out of Dodge before the tedious little cliché launches into three verses of ‘We live separate lives’ with a catchy ‘ chorus of ‘I haven’t done her in years’.
I also advised her that it may, in the future, be in her best interests to keep an eye on the great blue ‘above-ness’ when walking down the street.
If a piano’s gonna fall on anyone…………….