Gilles Peterson in Brazil). We wash it down with a bottle I brought back from British...">
The Lady makes me a grand meal - starters, main course, pud the lot. We listen to a CD she has bought me (Gilles Peterson">Gilles Peterson in Brazil). We wash it down with a bottle I brought back from British Columbia. We chat a lot.
The night is only blighted by the fact that I get tired and suggest that I wash the dishes in the morning. she goes a little quiet as I clear the plates. She walks over to the dinner table and pints at the ring of red wine in the position where my glass sat. She walks over to the stereo and points at the plastic wrapper of the CD strewn across it. She strides over to the cork sitting on the floor by the sink.
She's not happy. She didn't expect me to come back and turn her world upside down.
'I'm so tired, baby,' doesn't muster any positivity from her.
She thinks. There's a great track now playing but I try to concentrate.
'OK. We need to change,' she says.
'OK. I see what you mean,' I lie.
'We can't go on like this any longer,' she says.
'No we can't,' I say only being able to base my judgement on the last four seconds of our relationship. You know how you forget some of the important things sometimes, eh?
'I want us to both write a list of what things about the other person annoys us.'
'OK. I frown,' I reply trying to remember the trip we took to Rio a few years back.
'Tomorrow.'
She starts her list watching 'The Station Agent'
I go into the bedroom and pass out.
Posted by Guy Brighton on October 14, 2004 at 11:21 PM
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