Showing posts with label married men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label married men. Show all posts

Wednesday, 8 October 2008

Pink Cocktails and Bad News


I’m feeling a bit woozy and depressed today as Rache came over last night and we drank too many champagne cocktails.(A credit-squeeze version, using pink Cava from Tesco.) (Also, some of them with cranberry juice in, as Rache has cystitis. Or maybe some worse, Greek variant.) She was so sad about Vasilius going. He is the best thing that has ever happened to her, such a fantastic lover, such a superb man in every way etc etc.
The thing I was most interested in is that she told me that Oskar, the demon cat, who was making Rache’s life a misery by, for instance, peeing in her fruit bowl, has completely changed as a result of these two grumpy middle-aged Greek men occupying his quarters for a week. Rache explained that Oskar now looks apologetic all the time, is pathetically grateful even to be allowed into the place, and doesn’t even miaow when he needs feeding. He just looks at her pleadingly, with a winsome look on his scroffy face. I don’t know what those Greeks did to him, but it sounds amazing. Maybe Vas and Dimi ought to have their own TV series, ruthlessly sorting out troublesome cats all over the UK.(Only, maybe their methods are best kept secret.)
Oh, and just before Rache passed out on my sofa, mascara smeared all over her face, she confided that Pym was really worried about me. My tarots were really diabolically terrible, and he was just making them sound better to be kind. He’s never seen worse ones, and was shocked when they came out almost exactly the same the second time…
Great.

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Baclava Love


Rache rang me very excited saying that Vasilius, the unhappily-married Greek shopkeeper she met on holiday has just sent her a postcard (with a donkey on it) saying he is coming to London to see her. I can’t see that this is exciting at all, especially as Rachel read THE BOOK on Saturday, and seemed at the time to completely take in all it said about having nothing to do with married men. (The book said that, statistically, the only time a married man is likely to leave his wife for you is in the first three months of your relationship. After that, there’s no chance. And anyhoo, married men are an all-round bad bet in the romantic stakes.) Her reply was that she’s only known him three weeks (or 5 days if you just count the days she spent with him), so she’s a long way off three months. And anyway she’s not sure she wants him to leave his family.
I just feel v.sorry for Vasilius’s wife, who looked about twice his age, was shaped like a bolster-cushion, and had a sad, bitter look on her wrinkly face. And spent her whole time scuffling around sorting boxes, stacking shelves, cooking etc etc while Vasilius flirted with the female customers and gave them free slices of baclava.