Devoted to my Worst Ever Single Serving Friend



So, I’ve been travelling. No big deal; visited volcanic islands of the South Pacific (hence the volcanic rock above). More on that later.

I’m flying back to England and there’s this lady beside me. She’s dressed in a traditional Samoan print, though she’s white without even a dash of Polynesian blood in her (it’s a thing around those parts). We’re bording and she’s having this loud argy-bargy with her husband or significant male other. This ends in her hanging up the phone and yelling ‘men!’. 

I smile to myself. 

She looks at me and says, ‘ All he has to do is lookup an email for me. But he won’t.’

She then tells me how she’s been negotiating something in Samoa and blah, blah. I nod sympathetically, then I tell her that I spent a year in Samoa.

‘Peace Corps?’ she asks.

‘No. I just went.’

She was quiet for a while, then she said, ‘ it must be nice to have the resources to go where I want.’

She said this with such derision, such negativity that I just kept quiet. I didn’t bother telling her that I had to work my way because she wasn’t going to hear it.

Then later, the flight attendants bring the complimentary drinks and I don’t want anything, and she says, ‘ I’ll have yours.’ 

If you’ve read or watched ‘Fight Club’ you’ll understand the concept of the person who sits next to you on a plane being your single-serving friend, like the single serving sugar or butter that they serve with he meal. 

She was my absolute worst single-serving friend.

Anyway, I’m back. More boring posts to follow.





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