Past perfect September 26, 2007Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
Just a quickie.
The perfect friend has been and gone. His new girlfriend is perfect. He has got slightly more perfect since I last saw him. Cooking was kept to a minimum. I didn’t sneeze all over them. The Russian is back, which is perfect. We went out to dinner as a perfect foursome tonight and that passed off perfectly, even though I thought the floor might tip up as the Russian and I both sat on one side of the table and the perfect Finns sat sveltely on the other. But it withstood the strain.
A dear friend and his boyfriend, the beautiful friend – I helped get them together, so I can die happy – held a bash on Saturday night. The perfect friend and his girlfriend agreed to come along. I also dragged perfect bloggeress B. along and she agreed, perfectly, to be dragged. The perfect friend is probably perfectly unaware that when anyone ever meets him, the conversation that ensues within one second of him leaving earshot is about his beauty. The dear friend, the perfect bloggeress and I popped out onto the balcony for a ciggie so we could discuss the perfect friend’s perfection. “He is gorgeous,” commented the dear friend, hostlily. “He looks just like a Finnish A_ – my perfect friend was a Finnish A_ – I was neighbours with in California in the early 80s,” B. added.
I put off the ciggie.
“B., he DID live in California in the early 80s.”
We turned on our heels and once we’d calmed down from the palpitations his renewed beauty inspired, B. asked if he’d lived on such and such a street.
“Perkele jumalauta saatana vittu!” he exclaimed. “I’d just said to my perfect girlfriend that you looked familiar!”
Cue ferocious reminiscing, photos being taken on mobiles and sent to siblings, a quick mobile chat between the perfect friend and B.’s brother and subsequent sterling work by the B. family in getting me old photos of the families and of the two sets of children playing together 25 years ago which I presented to the perfect friend this evening.
You’ve got to admit, as coincidences go, that’s a pretty good one.