Even Marilyn Monroe wouldn’t wear that skirt
There I was. It was Bank Holiday Monday. I’d block-booked the day as ‘do absolutely nothing if at all possible’ and I was sticking to it.
After a manic weekend I needed a day to recover, against all the odds I was lured to a pub.
Penelope texted me.
Hey Toast you’ve probably have plans but I’m on my way back from A TOWN via PART OF WEST LONDON and was wondering if you fancied a drink?
So I replied and said yes, because as much as I love the sofa I’d like to see more of her.
We arranged to meet outside a tube equidistant between us and then we’d go and find a pub nearby.
She appeared on time (ten points to team Penelope) and was wearing a long floaty black skirt, a denim jacket and a light blue scarf. Her dress was so floaty it kept rising up in the wind causing a bit of a Marilyn Monroe moment.
We found a nearby pub, it was an old wooden place that was built like a maze. She bought some drinks and we sat down to catch up. It was a fairly in-depth conversation catching up future plans and things.
It was exactly the sort of conversation that hadn’t been possible when we met last week because we were mashed and with chums. Okay, I was mashed, and she was with chums.
It was very nice drink and terribly civilised.
The only slightly unusual thing was when she said ‘Oh I’ve just noticed this skirt is a bit see through.’ I couldn’t help but look at the skirt when she said that, and it was a bit.
There were definite outlines. I blushed and hid behind my pint.
Hot damn I’m cool.
Marriage percentage: 30% Slightly lower percentage than last time as the reality of the situation is kicking in, she is a chum.