Christmas is a long way away, sixteen weeks, but already at work we’ve booked our seasonal party, and we’re too-ing and fro-ing about who has what time off over the seasonal period. Most of my colleagues have family locally, whereas my family are a long way off, so I have to be delicately persuasive to make sure I can book off enough time to see them.
“Are you spending Christmas Day with Liz?” asked my colleague Karen.
“I don’t know,” I replied, “I haven’t even met her parents yet.”
“What? How long have you been going out?”
“I don’t know – ten, eleven weeks perhaps.”
“And you’ve not met her parents?”
“No.”
“And she’s not met yours?”
“No. Meeting them is quite a big deal, I think. Both sets live a quite a long way away. They’re not just down the road.”
“Well, if I date somebody for more than a month – and that’s pretty serious for me – then I always introduce them to my parents. I mean, I’m getting on now, I’m thirty-five, so I’m… you know… I’m not getting any younger…”
I felt suddenly saddened by the idea of my colleague rushing matters of the heart because of a ticking body clock. Is thirty-five even that old? I didn’t know what to say. I smiled, but inside I felt awful for her. I mean, sure, I was a bit disappointed that Liz wasn’t able to come to meet my family last weekend, but not with the grasping hunger Karen radiated as she spoke. Then she laughed loudly and carried on talking about men she’d slept with. I don’t understand her at all.
Roni made me laugh out loud when she said, about Christmas and men, “I always dump ‘em on about the 20th so that I don’t have to buy them a present. And then I ask ‘em back on about the 5th of January”
Later on, I said that I thought nipple tassels were tacky. Karen and Sarah were outraged. Karen said, “What if you’re doing a bit of role play, and you’re being the mum…”
The mum? Err…..
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