Thursday, 4 February 2010

Dim sum, lose some

...Mr Smith: I still want to talk about sex with you, though.
Me: Where did that come from?
Mr Smith : I was just reinforcing that I don't want too much to be off limits.
Me: It's organic. (In my head I was singing Que Sera, Sera)

I was instantly tired. Mentally.   I had just reread "It had to be you".  Did I want to be a married man's listening post, and occasional wank fodder?

Later that torturous evening with Keaton, where I pretty much had to spell out we couldn't be friends, I began a self-audit on other friendships. It's a simple equation; output should equal input.

Before I crashed out with a DVD box set, I said to Mr Smith that I regretted meeting him. Not entirely true but on the input/output calculation it just doesn't add up.

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