Mr L rang last night. He said he was sitting on Preston station. It wasnâ€™t yet 10pm. How come? He was supposed to be killing time in Manc, where there would be plenty to do.
â€œManc was horribly depressing: too many people, and full of drunks. So I thought Iâ€™d get the train to Preston and wait here instead. But Preston is full of drunks too and thereâ€™s a bouncer outside every pub so I didnâ€™t go inâ€¦â€
Okayyyyy. But what about dinner? Had he had his dinner?
â€œI had a pint in Wetherspoons in Manchesterâ€
But what had he eaten â€“ the Thursday Curry Club, perhaps?
â€œI just had a sausage roll.â€
But he needs more than that if heâ€™s travelling all night!
â€œI didnâ€™t feel like eatingâ€¦â€
There was a short pause, during which I heard girly squealingâ€¦
â€œThey have those girls here, like in Leeds.â€
Ah, he means the ones that go out with no clothes onâ€¦ they pour out of the trains at Leeds, on their way to the clubs, at an hour when normal people are going home.
I smiled, thinking that many men of his age would be enjoying that scenery. We returned to the subject of dinner:
â€œI havenâ€™t enjoyed anything all week. I donâ€™t want to eat. I miss your cooking.â€
Howâ€™s that for an endorsement?
I do like a man who knows which side his bread is buttered 🙂
I also like a man who knows how to do a proper compliment and make a wife feel properly valued. I knew what I was doing when I picked this one. Oh, yes.
And now I am REALLY pissed off that the chocolates I ordered to welcome him home with have not arrived. (Ah well, it will have to be the BJ, I guess.)