Can I have this dance….

K is getting married.

It’s been quite some time coming.

I love this gal to pieces.

I met K on a work night out - I was 33ish and she was 16 and very drunk and passed out in the bathroom.

In the years that followed we ended working in the same office. We wandered the streets at lunchtime, we visited pubs on the way home. Sat in Kelvingrove gardens and righted the world

I steered her away from wrong uns, encouraged her to save her money; stopped her from running away from home to love with Freddie in Spain. And we ate.

We ate loads over the year. K loves to
Eat. We’ve visited monkey world (twice), had amazing days out always punctuated with food.

She can’t deal with the fact that one night she, I and Tooli went out - and the age difference between her and Tooli was the same between her and me.

Tonight was her hen night. I took the train to Glasgow and met them at the Willow
tea rooms- Rennie Mackintosh designed and we had a cocktail master class.

It was so lovely to see her - she was so worried about me; she knows I hate crowds, new people, events… every time she caught my eye …Are you okay? Are you okay?

Her mum was sitting by me at the meal and she said, ‘you have always been there for k, am sure she has told you things she hasn’t told me…. Am sure you know things I don’t want to know .. but thank you’

And has she? Course not