Sunday, 21 November 2010


We're sitting downstairs in the bar after the karaoke, enjoying a well earned drink after our labours, he picks up a tiny little hat someone has made & left on the table (dress code: wear a hat.) It is like a miniscule top hat, with a lace veil attached.
"Whose is this? It can't belong to a person. It's too small. It looks like it would fit an animal..." He measures it in his hands.
"Maybe a squirrel?" I suggest.
"No, no squirrel has a head that big..."
"An owl?"
We look at it. He raises an eyebrow. "An owl... A small owl..."
Then we say in chorus "A barn owl!"
We have just started talking and I'm enjoying the instant silliness of the conversation. We get onto talking about London, about where our families are from
"Russia & Poland"
"Me too!"
"... they lived in Petticoat Lane..."
"mine too! I bet they would have known each other!"
And chatting about Berlin, about languages, living abroad, chat chat chat... considering how drunken and how late the hour, we're having quite an interesting in-depth discussion. (I'd like to stress I'm not flirting at all here) when suddenly his girlfriend, who is sitting the other side of him on the banquette, talking to other people, says petulantly "Well are we hanging around here? What are we doing?" (She is nice though, I was sharing the microphone with her earlier.) She lays a proprietory hand on his leg, and I realise I've exceeded the time you are meant to talk to someone else's boyfriend.

I wasn't doing anything, just talking. My lord, but it is depressing sometimes.


  1. Cheer up. By the sound of things, you’re probably related to him, so your children would have three heads.

  2. Yeah, he was probably my cousin-brother, as the kids at school sometimes (a bit worryingly) say.

  3. Bah! A classic case of insecurity on her part. Sounds like a great night though!

  4. It was good Sar, I wish I'd remembered to programme in Kiss by Prince though...