July 11, 2011 § 7 Comments
The other night I saw Marion who is a friend of some friends, and she sat me down on a white sofa to regale me with amusing stories of suddenly-available men finding themselves with a new woman barely before realising they had lost the old one! Such, such fun I had hearing all these heartening anecdotes from this married-with-five-children-lady-of-means. What a card! And one with such delightful sensitivity shown to a divorcee without a man in a countrywide radius!
The stories were as follows:-
1). Great friend of Marion’s, (who I happen to know is) a posh, rich, fat, stupid man who boastfully tells hilarious stories about episodes in his past when he enjoyed mooning, had a lovely wife and children. The wife dies. Within six weeks, he has hooked up with a new girlfriend, Jo (gorgeous, blond; in a caring profession). Marion says his children can’t stand Jo and it is Jo’s stupid fault, she should have waited till their mother was a little colder in her grave. I am sorry, I said, but shouldn’t HE have been the one to have waited? It was after all his wife who had died, not Jo’s. “Oh,” Marion simpered and giggled, “but you know what men are like!” As if that exonerated him from blame. I pointed out that had Jo waited decorously, as Marion was dictating, then some other woman would have jumped in there before her. “No, maybe you are right,” she reluctantly agreed. “It is true that three days after his wife died, we were on a fashionable beach. He was sweating like a pig, his face was the colour of a Victoria plum, and no fewer than three women who only knew him vaguely but knew about his wife, approached him and said, ‘Oh, poor, darling Ru-upert, how ARE you?”
2.) Marion’s husband’s best friend was left by his wife. Marion’s immediate thought was, “I must introduce him to [her divorced friend] Gillian. But, no, I must give the poor man a month or so. Well, next time he came to dinner, all of a few days into his new-found status, he brought a companion. My delicate hesitation was too delicate for Gillian. He was already taken!”
3.) Marion is giving a dinner party and has asked her friend June. June rings on the day. “Can I bring a friend called Ben? Poor man, his wife and children were killed a month ago in an accident.” Of course he could come, said Marion. It never even crossed her mind that June and Ben were an item, but the way they carried on that evening, with their PDAs (public displays of affection) and their eyes only for each other, it was blindingly obvious how she had been ridiculously naive. The couple married a few months later. Oh, and a few years after that, divorced.
Marion’s stories make me want to slit my wrists.