Having met Lisa for lunch yesterday at the dodgy pub which doesn't sell Bacardi, gets its orange juice from the corner shop next door, and only serves cocktails "when we're not too busy", Lisa revealed that she had in fact booked the afternoon off work as a surprise. Proving that you can't trust her in the slightest. I was so cheered by the news, that I decided not to complain about the barmaid who had decided to answer the phone in the middle of getting my round, and then brought me the wrong drink, before leaving the right drink at the wrong end of the bar and claiming she'd already given it to me.
But as Lisa's friend confidently claims, "it's the best pub in Brighton". She clearly doesn't get out much.
So with time on our hands, Lisa and I went shopping for knee-high boots. Naturally Lisa can't enter a branch of Next without spending half the national debt on clothing she previously had no intention of buying, but safe in the knowledge that it wasn't my money, I decided to egg her on, and was instrumental in the purchase of at least two items. One of which Lisa's mother has declared to be so hideous she never wants to go out with her daughter in public again. But I'm sure it'll grow on her.
Anyhoo, I'm not saying women take a long time in changing rooms, but having deposited Lisa in one accompanied by a selection of potential purchases, I had time to wander off, drink a chocolate milkshake (the diet starts tomorrow), go to the toilet, look in two shops, and still make it back in time for her emergence.
In the evening we went to see the film version of 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Lisa was a self-confessed fan of the musical, while I was essentially just playing the dutiful boyfriend role. But I quite enjoyed it. I didn't completely understand what was going on half the time, but I knew I had a Phantom expert sitting next to me, so I waited patiently until the end, opened my mouth to clarify a few aspects of the plot, and was interrupted by Lisa asking me to explain the storyline to her, and wondering who the bloke at the end was supposed to be.
I thought it was the Phantom. She thought it was Jon Voight. Frankly we're none the wiser.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment