I told her that if we looked like we were about to die, it was purely an attempt to blend in with the Wish Tower diners. She then asked me if I enjoyed my honeymoon in God's Waiting Room, before calling me a skinflint. I think I need to de-friend her on Facebook.
Mind you, the woman's generous with her gifts. I came back from lunch to this post-it note...
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3bs7IlpSOq6srzbnTIpt_qjD3N1T6rB72LyNehpf_nCxJ_i-U2g3Y_N2ei2OkwAFKYRt148TS8qCm4dGD23C4cQqgeFqMshQML4N6kjywhALkyL5yXwtPW1hsdr2SiS1zcY4EQ/s320/eastbourne+alot.jpg)
It was attached to a card they give to the elderly and housebound...
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKk2lk0WIPamM7MG_9lmBQ7tNw8AKJakgECXnEADLUYQ85_s7_IeVSWidH9McCNS5W1iy2XVbR671-irHWCDqscdNixoOknX2seqYhFCPC07SzxmjsbJY9vE4diOusy2bdeiORA/s400/community+health.jpg)
She'd helpfully marked the phone number in case I didn't have my specs.
3 comments:
That green on blue isn't very easy to read if you're colour blind.
I said you had good friends at Crawley, didn't I?!
Are those two kisses next to her phone number?
Post a Comment