“In a show of our good manners and breeding we are extending you a dinner invitation (albeit indirectly and as an after-thought).
Really hoping you can’t make it… “
When I found out that the dinner invitation to Eurostars’
wasn't even firsthand but came through our friends who were coming to stay with
us. :0/ We decided we were busy that night.
(Had a pile of shoelaces to shampoo actually)
Who asks someone over for dinner who lives under 20klm away via a family in Europe?? Is it just
me or does that just scream of "oh well I guess we're obliged to include you,
but maybe you'll get the message anyway and NOT accept..."
Both Mr Frenchie and I had worked with the husband over
several years and two continents and we kept in touch. We all travelled out to Australia around the
same time, and I’d welcomed her to Sydney with open arms, genuine sympathy and a much needed
ear; it was such a culture shock for this princess; the transition from Holland
Park London to Malooloobah Queensland. But despite the friendly support, seems I will
always remain persona non-grata to Princess Eurostar.
Then some more ex-colleagues came down under for a visit,
and the Euro Stars wanted to have them to dinner at the mansion. So they were invited.
But ‘Awkward Much?’ The dinner party would be during their
stay with us and after a heavily pregnant pause, eventually it was extended to
include ourselves.
It didn’t come directly, but through our visiting colleagues
after they’d been staying a week. Kind of a case of; ‘oh why not ask those two if they can make it
as well.’
Why not indeed. Like I said; many dirty shoelaces to attend to.
Well the last time I’d seen Princess Eurostar it was at
another ex-collegue’s cocktail party. She was making sociable
noises in my direction that night.
That is until I found myself in a Mr Darcy eavesdrops on
Mrs Bennet moment.
Someone had asked me how my book was going and I ended up
in an animated discussion with the hostess about my writers block of the
moment; which happened to be my difficulties with writing sex-scenes.
Euro-princess dropped her mask on the floor; her beatific
smile turned to a look of someone whose Louboutins have just sunk into a steaming pile of dog
poo, and she shot off like a racing greyhound.
(she's certainly built for it)
(she's certainly built for it)
And while the
hostess and I really bonded (and I got some great sexpirational tips from the saucy minx) Eurostar kept her
distance the rest of the night has continued giving me a wide berth ever since.
I am the social equivalent of a steaming pile of dog pooh, apparently. That's Cool.
________________________________________________________________
This clip is for all the lovely genuine and supportive friends I’ve made and
kept not just from my years in Europe but also since my arrival down under, who still like
me very much just as I am.
And that setniment runs both ways xx
