PTFE called me unexpectedly last night.... well, she mailed me and said she’d had a shit weekend, and asked if I could talk, so in fact I called her. But you know what I mean.
PTFE: I’ve been crying.
Me: Oh, have you? What’s up, babe?
PTFE: Don’t ask stupid questions.
Me: Okay. How’s work?
PTFE: I hate you.
Me: You don’t have any reason to hate me.
PTFE: I know. That’s why I hate you.
Me: Well, I can see the sense in that.
PTFE: I’m going now. Can we meet up next week – just to have dinner? I miss you.
Me: Sure... I miss you too. But you know I won’t change my mind.
PTFE: I know. You’re paying.
I know there are a lot of Bush fans out there. This is just for you. It made me laugh, even this morning. And I'll see you on Thursday, no doubt... I think it's time my pubes made an appearance again!
(Edit: I'm a bit overwhelmed with work between now and Thursday, and it's going to require a couple of 18-20 hour days. I won't have much time for commenting/responding to comments although I will be reading them, so don't think I'm being rude.)