Finishing off brunch I looked up to see a familiar face and froze. My heartbeat was already through the roof from the fourteen-espresso-shots-in-a-cup this café liked to call coffee and this sighting wasn’t helping by a long-black lot.
You see the last time I’d spoken to this familiar face was on Facebook chat where he virtually spat at me “Found anyone to f*ck yet?” Well that’s not very nice is it. Must say the conversation with this ‘friend’ stopped right there – and come year and a half later across the other side of the world and look who is spreading butter that wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
I’m back living in a city that’s crawling with people I’ve had fallings out with. No-one told me when I was younger this becomes a cruddy part of adult life. And yes finding old foes happened in London too. Umm this is Europe – you’re not supposed to be here. But Melbourne is smaller and when it comes to chances of bumping into these bruised egos and bitchy girls the stakes are higher than a Eureka tower sky deck.
One of the slightly alarming things returning home after a long stint overseas is you can wander past unnoticed by absolutely everyone. It’s bizarre. People haven’t seen you for a few years – therefore they’re not going to place you walking down Bourke street wearing jeans in their suit clad community. Worked with that receptionist for four years? Walk straight past. Made out with that guy most Friday nights? Walk straight past. It’s great! It’s like being a Ninja but with Heathrow injection and Topshop attire.
So I’m 31 and I’ve had a few disagreements with people over the years – hasn’t everyone? However, since middle-twenties and emotional maturity hit I’ve done my best to pick up the phone, find them on Facebook and apologise and chat like ‘Hey we don’t wear orange or reflectors now, it’s all in the phat-pants-past’.
But there’s also ‘ex-friends’ I wouldn’t pour VB on if they were on fire from firecrackers at a full moon party. (Ok I probably would because that happened to me and it smelt like burnt hair and sweet Breezers.) If someone has upset me enough to shed tears – well, stuff them. If they really can’t find that apology button or swallow some I’m-wrong humble pie then why give them the chance to do it all over again? I will never understand people who stay friends with ‘friends’ who treat them terribly. There are so many other people out there just waiting to be met, laughed with and have beer spilt on. And living in London certainly blew out of the Thames water any worry I had about making good friends again.
I guess I can’t keep moving cities to avoid these butter-melting-men and whipped-cream-women, I’ve learned a friendly smile and wave sends them on their way. And besides, I like the cardiac-coffee in this city way too much to leave.
Sorry but this is pathetic. You sound like a sad little self indulgent twat. Quit drinking like a fish and acting like its all about you (cause it aint) and maybe you might find a bloke who’ll be happy to take you out on more than a handful of dates?
You’re a jealous insecure cow. the pic you’ve pasted up isn’t doing you many favors either.
all the best!!
Apology accepted Mr LOL.
Well really this blog IS all about me and you’re the one reading it so you can stop any time you want, it’s not like it’s The Guardian or some reputable news source. Also I didn’t ‘paste’ the picture… but I’ll let that incorrect terminology slide as maybe you don’t know much about these sorts of things.
And anyway I quite like that picture! The full length version shows off my legs much better.
Move on LOL buddy. Sounds like you were burned by this honest and candid woman and haven’t accepted it yet.
Drink like a fish? If you pursued her knowing that then don’t bring it up now you moron. f your ‘poor taste’ is something you are so ashamed of, why are you reading this blog? Might be time to get back on the bike and find someone you have more than a passing crush on and commit to some real long-term feelings. Most would call that adult, yet you seem incapable of it and feel you’re entitled to spout false wisdom to this blogger?
Nothing more pathetic than a burnt match staring wistfully at the box and pretending it still belongs, blaming everyone else for being different. You sparked for a bit and blew out in the wind. That’s life.