A further Post Mortem

So dear reader, we left it with me deciding to look fairly casual, not wanting to waste any of my proper clothes on the world's worst guest list. I'd ordered a wicked playsuit from Topshop a few weeks ago, and it looked brilliant when I tried it on. But I didn't order it for this and I wasn't going to waste it on them.

We'd decided to drive to the pub and meet everyone there. And just so we wouldn't have to give anyone a lift back, we were going to go in the Alfa, since it only has two seats and we can say "Ah, sorry. Our car's only got two seats." But then my sister is staying with my for a couple days, and Mr Bunny practically BEGGED her to come along, so we ended up going in our boring car. So we're getting dressed and his sister texts him to say that we can all meet up at her place and we can follow them to the pub. We'd planned to follow the trusty sat-nav, since it hasn't failed us yet. But he told her we'd do it. So she said to be at hers for between half-six and seven. So I said we'd get there for seven, to minimise the awkwardness of just hanging around her house. Then she texts and says to get to hers for quarter to six. Twenty minutes later she texts again and says to get there for seven instead. At this point, I was ready to rip off my dress and climb into bed.

So I punched her postcode into the sat-nav and we set off. However, she neglected to give any information as to how to actually find her bloody house. She lives on a main road, in a place called Villa Farm. So the sat-nav says "You have reached your destination" of course, when we're on the main road. And we're there driving as slowly we could do without pissing off the drivers behind us, looking for the tiny sign that would say 'Villa Farm'. She could have said "Yeah, it's just past the village store, over the bridge on the right." But she just said "There's an electric gate." And we ended up driving up and down this road for about ten minutes, with Mr Bunny's blood pressure slowly rising and me wishing more and more that I was at home watching Harry Hill's TV Burp. Par for the course with her. So I had to end up ringing her and swallowing the urge to shout "You stupid bint! Give proper directions!!!"

Anyway, we finally make it to her house and she wants us to come inside. Right away I clock that she's wearing a dress and heels. At first I get pissed off, because I'm like "Wait a minute, she said no dresses, since it wasn't really a fancy 'do'." Then I'm surprised, because she never wears dresses and heels. Like, never. Seriously. She's always saying that she can't walk in heels and she loves her trainers and jeans. And of course that always makes me skin up my face and go "Oh, I don't wear jeans or trainers." I can't help it. So we go inside so she can show off her little love nest, then I realise that her car isn't there and I twig that she's actually coming with us! Yeah, thanks for checking that it was ok. What if we'd actually come in the Alfa? I mean, I would have happily strapped her to the roof, but I don't think she would have appreciated that. Steups. She finishes showing off, and we jump in the car and head off. I switched the sat-nav back on, but she was like "Oh no, you don't need it. I know how to get there."

Sigh.

Turns out the pub is fucking miles away and she is just as shit at giving directions in person. At one point, Mr Bunny had to do like an eight point turn in a country lane, because she didn't know her left from her right. But oddly enough, that wasn't the low point of the evening. So we're inside and I order a double G&T and a bottle of alcoholic ginger beer. And she's busy schmoozing and kissing her boyfriend, who really does look like a farmer. She then comes over to make the announcement that the two exes are going to be late, because The Bell is such a flake. Oh my God! Like totally! Yes, she and The Bell had made up a few weeks ago and she has been welcomed back into the fold as if she wasn't a class A fuckwit. Then again, they're all Class A fuckwits, so birds of a feather and all that.

Then the moment arrives. They arrive, all dresses and opaque tights and heels. If I was a paranoid person, I'd have thought that she said it wasn't dressy in an attempt to get me to turn up in jeans and slippers. But she clearly underestimated my powers. For in a simple black maxi dress, earrings and pashmina, I managed to look all classy and understated 'n' shit. While they looked like they were trying too hard. You can't polish a turd. Look, it's a fact. Deal with it.

So I'm standing next to Mr Bunny and my sister when Fatsooo makes a beeline over to us, abandoning her own boyfriend who just looked on, and kisses Mr Bunny on the cheek. And she stands there making small talk with me and trying to find out my business. However, all that ended up confirming, was the fact that the coven sit around talking about me. Because she brings up the Alfa and says "But isn't it your car?" To which I replied "Yeah, Mr Bunny bought it for me, but I think I fancy something else now." and also "So have you qualified yet? What are your languages again?". These are things neither myself nor Mr Bunny have told her. She knows nothing about the car situation from me and I have never told her I was doing my MA. She also sought out confirmation on certain aspects of our life "So does he just give you the card and let you go shopping?" and I answered loftily "No, we have a joint account and I have all his credit cards and access to his current account, so I just take as much as I want, whenever I want." She just looked at me and I smiled at her.

Then The Bell comes over and I am suddenly engrossed in the menu. But her shrill tones prove too hard to ignore and she touches me on the arm "Ooooh, nice to see you. You look lovely. That's a nice simple dress" And I just say "Yeah, didn't feel like dressing up just to come to the pub. Didn't see the point in it." And we all laugh like drains. I know I'm partly to blame for the continuing 'atmosphere' but I can't help it. I should be the bigger person and let these little comments and questions just roll off my back, but I just can't seem to do it. I know all I'm doing is throwing more fuel on to the fire, but is it really all my fault? Bah.

So I make a bit of small talk, get introduced to Fatsooo's boyfriend (who it turns out, is bloody hilarious and a very loud drunk) then we get told we can be seated. I go to the bar with my sister and tell Mr Bunny to get some seats. Another G&T and a pint for Mr Bunny. Mr Bunny then came to the bar with a fairly apologetic look on his face- we've ended up on a table with The Bell and Fatsooo. That, dear reader, was the low point of my evening. It could have been a billion times worse though. I could've ended up being sat next to the sister-in-law and the farmer.

...I guess.