Google+ Bree Bronson's Babies: Wanker

Tuesday, November 20, 2012


Party party
I went out with Best Friend on Friday. We do that as often as we can and it's one of those things that keep me sane. Our lives are at similar stages so we never run out of topics to chat about. And we chat a lot.

When we have a girls' night out we normally go to a nice restaurant for a dinner - such luxury when all we do on a normal day is serve small people - and maybe a drink afterwards. We tend to choose places where we can talk without shouting at each other over the music so a cosy pub was our choice this time.

It's been ages since someone tried to hit on me in a bar. I really can't tell when it's happened last time, not that I've gone out a lot either. But sure enough, on Friday we heard a sudden "suri to interubt ya gals" (the guy turned out to be Scottish) from the other side of the table. The two guys had been sitting there for a while and obviously didn't mind our wedding rings. I can't put a finger on what exactly triggered the she-devil out of me but I couldn't keep my mouth shut when the Scot tried to be funny:

- "It seems like you're angry at your friend when you talk, what has she done to you?" (He didn't understand Finnish I guess)
- "Yeah, I can't stand her guts, she's so annoying. Luckily she doesn't speak any English." (Best Friend's English is better than mine)
- "??!!??"
- "Come on, she's my best friend. I love her."

Luckily he didn't get angry, but after that Scotland's gift to the world didn't want to talk to me anymore but tried to impress Best Friend instead. It was ok to me and I followed the conversation trying to understand his accent.

I guess it was first when I told him he looked like Richard Hammond and sounded like Colin Farrell when he got a bit angry. I was told that I'm a wanker. I told him to bring subtitles with him next time.

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