Personal Blogs

It was awkward. Social niceties had brought us all together, but some of us weren't having fun. He was holding forth about a personality type, which he clearly despised, and which, as was obvious to the other diners, was my own.

She, his partner was doting, she was stroking his hand.

I was getting worried swift-flicked-glances from the rest of the table. There was a potential for a horrid scene here. It's a known that I usually react badly to such provocation.

I sized him up, we did owe him after all, that's why we were paying for the meal. I reckoned that it would be close battle, but that I'd have the benefit of surprise. Which counts for much.

But I was tired [not fatigued, I just wanted to be not what I was] and I couldn't really be bothered. I had other weapons.

I ordered a lot more drink.

As he stepped out of the taxi, having had, a rather-large, lecture on female circumcision, I saw his face. He'd have been happier if I'd repeatedly punched it.

He'd made the ultimate arse move; arguing with a woman when drunk. Only idiots play that game.