Aren't I mean? David has a girlfriend who I can't bare. She is the big events coordinator for the new millennium. All show, all singing, all dancing, sell, sell, sell, full of shit. Big smile, big eyes, "How fascinating, Daaarrrrllinngg!"
I don't believe your sincerity for a moment. I don't like you!
A week, or so ago, when I had the house to myself, David asked if she could come and spend the night, as she lives way out in the boonies and she had an early flight to catch at Melbourne airport. When David was in Sydney and Shane was in Adelaide.
"I'd rather she didn't, to tell you the truth." Me and her alone together for the night. Ah! I'd rather have my dick cut off.
Just now, David came and asked how I'd feel about having two kids in the house tomorrow while he baby sits. "No way," I said. I decided not to sugar coat it. "I hate kids." Not, actually, true, but close enough for this exercise.
"I guess I'll take that as a no?"
I knew who's kids they were and I wasn't having any part of this eventuating. I just knew it would happen more than once, if I allowed it to happen in the first place.
"I'm not sure how else you could interpret my reply," I said to David.
I don't like her, I thought. So, why should I inconvenience myself for somebody I don't like. Life just doesn't work that way. Not that David knows that I don't like her, I never saw any point in letting that cat out of the bag on that issue.
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