We’ve known each other (intimately) for twenty years, the mister and I

6 Feb

Things had been a bit scratchy, and…what’s that…oh yes, the stench of burning martyr was most definitely in the air when I said…
“but I said I didn’t want to go out for breakfast…I told you, after that first place you rang was full…I said ‘no, don’t worry about it, I don’t want to go after all'”.

I sat on the lounge, then swung around, lifted my legs and reclined.

To which he said:

“yes, I know what you said, but I did what you meant”. His hands clasped the back of his chair, but the whites of his knuckles never show.

To which I replied, “no, I meant I didn’t want to go out for breakfast after all. If I’d still wanted to go out for breakfast, I would have said ‘yes, that’s a good idea, let’s try King William Road instead”.

I cleared my throat and thought to myself I really need a shower.
And do you know what he said? Can you believe it? He said:

“You can’t start changing the rules of engagement now”.

To be continued I suppose.

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3 Responses to “We’ve known each other (intimately) for twenty years, the mister and I”

  1. elsewhere February 6, 2008 at 11:05 am #

    why don’t the whites of his knuckles show? I want to know.

    (perhaps the beginnings of another best Australian short story here…?)

  2. Frogdancer February 6, 2008 at 12:21 pm #

    I like his comeback! Very dry. He probably has a point though…

  3. tut-tut February 6, 2008 at 10:31 pm #

    After 20 years, it’s all transparent.

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