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The journey home is a bit of a blur

November 16, 2012

I’ve been working hard recently – all good stuff and self-inflicted so am not looking for sympathy –  but it meant I was completely knackered before I went out the other night. I’d been working at home and should have had plenty of time to change and glam up but I was sucked in to a wormhole that is writing a powerpoint presentation and suddenly I need to call a cab and get the hell out of there! Slapped on the lippy and eyeliner, squirted the Pomegranite Noir, popped on some jewellery and I was off. A huge fuck-off minibus came to take me. Our local cab firm know us so I have a bit of banter with the driver and he drops me off.

And the evening begins before I am even inside the door as two of our party are parked outside with a glass of red and a ciggie on the go. Two glamorous women who make me wish I had made more of an effort  – thier coiffed and shiny hair, their high heels and their painted nails. (Actually I was OK about the last one – my shellacs were still pristine shiny). We move in and are seated at a lovely round table where the six of us are able to have one conversation altogether. It can be so disappointing sometimes when tables are so huge you can’t all share the same joke at the same time. Champagne arrived and kept coming, then the still wine just didn’t stop. Not to mention the complementary water Cote do love themselves for. Pate and steak frites barely touched the sides but this evening was mostly about the chatting rather than the chewing. Conversations ranged from Skyfall to schooldays, children to jewellery  and a fair time on the disappearance of pubic hair.

A divergence of views around the table on the acceptability, attractiveness and appropriateness of having a fluff-free fanny. Was it slightly perverted and paedophilic of men to like it? Was it just female choice? Was it fashion? Was it religion? I know from those still in the trade of seeing fannies on a daily basis for the NHS that it is far more common nowadays to have a bald bush. Why? Probably not just ethnic diversity, but following the trend of the porn stars who have had Barbie-like bits for thirty years. Presumably for a better close-up. Plus there’s proababy subliminal messaging in the Gillette adverts – the best a man can get………….

We were last to leave – the staff sitting patiently at a table waiting for us – and most of us made our way home. But apparently two popped in to the wine bar next door for another hour till throwing out time at 2. Respect ladies! I was face down in a coma in my bed by then!

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