Sisterhood of Lost Expectations

I met up for a drink with a girlfriend last night, mainly to talk about a mutual friend who's been acting up recently. As the conversation progressed, interesting trivia surfaced bit by bit, skeletons danced out of their closets, and a completed jigsaw puzzle had been unwittingly unravelled. It felt like a scene ripped straight out of a corny chick flick.

We each, consecutively, had something going on with him. And he was being a wierdo with both.

At the cafe, our table had the least number of people and the largest contribution to noise pollution. It was a chair-shifting, mug-rattling, table-smashing ruckus. We compared experiences and pieced events together with hilarious results. (Although my friend has only known him for a fraction of the time which I have, their 'relationship' went deeper and longer than mine. With me, it was more of... erm, abusing a friendship. She doesn't want anything to do with him anymore, and I'm strangely still friends with him.) After the ordeal of revelations we ended up feeling used, but at the same time relieved and grateful that we opened up to each other. We passed his house on the way home, parked outside, peeped though his gate and fought the insatiable urge to hurl stones and expletives at his bedroom window.

It was a pretty fun night.