Sunday, 12 May 2013

I Am Not At Your Beck And Call

So, the scene: 11pm Saturday night, asleep in bed.

A text wakes me up.

"We are in town. ..need dance partner"

Ah, the drunken text from the 45-year-old woman who feels entitled to drag me out at 11pm for a night of her drunken wobblings on the dance-floor.

No prior warning or gauge of interest. It's presumed that what she wants, she will immediately get. As if I'm a modern parent who will happily give, give, give - without expecting or requiring payment or acknowledgement.

She has had a boob-job. She hasn't had a partner/boyfriend for over a year. She tends to get drunk and blubbery when she's out on the town. Usually she's drunk and blubbery about how awful her life is.

A highly attractive and fun person to be around. /sarcasm

I ignored it, the implied message being: No thanks. I went back to sleep.

You're welcome.

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