OH THE EXCITEMENT

So the Housemate is on her THIRD date tonight. With the SAME guy. It’s created much excitement in our household and the event has managed to turn us into pre-pubescent teenagers. Without the bad skin or studded belts.

Housemate: What the hell am I going to wear?
Me: Wear what you wearing the day we went to that place and it was warm, but not too warm and we drank that delicious champers.
HM: He’s seen me in that outfit.
Me: He’s a guy, he won’t know.
HM: Yes, but I’ll know.
Me: Are you sleeping over?
HM: I’m not sure, how long did you wait before you slept over at the Wine Merchant’s house?
Me: Oh crises, don’t compare us please. You may remember we had about fifty dates without even a kiss on the cheek. I mentioned the words ‘stay over’ once and the look on his face was similar to mine when I first saw the The Shining.
HM: Well I have to sleepover, he lives in the gamadoolas.
Me: Well, whatever you do, don’t arrive at his door with your overnight bag and your favourite teddy and then sms your friends the whole evening with updates on the evening’s progression. I did that once and the relationship was one of my shorter ones.
HM: Oh my God, he’s phoning me.
Me: Oh my Gaaaawd! This is sooooooooooooo exciting!
HM: You’re almost 30 years old. You know that right?
Me: Which is why it’s very important you answer that phone so we’re not sitting here when we’re 40 having the same discussion.

Since the Wine Merchant is off with his harem of girls in the Cape this week, I suggested that I act as her escort for the evening. I got a look that said a thousand words, mainly ‘Piss off’ but she has promised at least two updating smses. If they order pizza, I’m hijacking the pizza man in the doorway and delivering it myself.

Best the Wine Merchant comes back soon, I’m starting to lose the plot.