The Antisocial Club

My Dear Fellows & Dear Princess,

Er Indoors came into the room with a guilty look on her face. 

"Hello," I thought, "I recognise that look. No good is going to come of this."

I looked around for an escape route. Unfortunately the back door was bolted. I considered flinging myself out of the window but we are quite high up and I might hurt myself.

Er Indoors rubbed her hands together. Something bad was definitely brewing. The windows started to look more appealing. If only I had thought to buy myself a parachute.

"How do you feel abooooout..." wheedled Er Indoors. 

"If this sentence ends with the words, 'matching tattoos' I'm going to feign death", I thought. 

"...dinner and drinks with Dull Couple on Saturday..."

Wait. WTF? Bring back the matching tattoos!

So look, the Dull Couple are nice enough people. But they have two children. With allergies. How do I know this?

BECAUSE THAT'S ALL THEY TALKED ABOUT ALL EFFING EVENING THAT'S HOW.

Er Indoors was waiting for me to respond. But I am evil.

"What do YOU think?" I asked her. 

"Well I think it would mean we go out and have a social life..." she said. 

"I see," I replied.

"So there's that," she said.

Clearly, this was a cagey bit of conversational chess we were playing with each other. I risked a move and pushed forward a pawn.

"Okaaaaay. But - here's the thing," I said. "You said the last time you had lunch with with Dull Lady you said she did nothing but talk about rashy children for two hours."

"All true things," Er Indoors agreed.

"So do YOU want to go out this weekend," I suggested. "It's not that I'm against having a social life. Just not necessarily with dull effing boring b*stards."

BOOM. I said it. It was out there. In the room.  

"Well if we're out for dinner with Dull Couple then if anyone talks about allergies we can just make an excuse and leave," added Er Indoors.

So theoretically we are having a social life this weekend. I think the problem is this: you people. I miss your chat. And no-one here has so far attained your levels of humour*.

"Tell them they need to step up their chat," I warned Er Indoors. "And if Dull Lady even MENTIONS one of her children swelling up, I'm putting my effing pudding into an effing doggy bag and effing off with it."

I'm intolerant I know. I'm a horrible human being person. But damn, I want that pudding.

S.

* Fart jokes.