Sunday, 30 March 2014


11:59, last night.

Ring ring. Ring ring.

"Hello, brother."
"Yo. Talk to me."
"Talk to me. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay. I'm in Holloway."
"With a friend."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'll talk to you about it all tomorrow."


15:25, today.

Ring ring. Ring ring.

"Hello, 47!"
"Hey. So we're talking about planning a wedding..."
"Next spring..."
"As you said..."
"Yeah. So I've been thinking about bridesmaids, and I was wondering if you would be my head boy bridesmaid?"
"I don't think men have bridesmaids. I think they have pageboys or ushers."
"Is the term you're looking for best man?"
"I suppose I could do that."
"I'll start writing a speech."

2 minutes later...

"Oh, and... bachelor party. I can't say much, obviously, because [his girlfriend's name] is sitting here beside me, but I think hookers, definitely."
"Goes without saying. I know a few."
"Yeah, I thought you might."
"Okay, well, enjoy your day."
"Yeah, you too."

I don't know which of these was less expected.

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