Ever since my divorce, my old school chum Mr Seagull has been trying to set me up with one of Cthulhu’s offspring his friends. I’ve met her before and while I’m sure she’s a lovely person and all that, she makes my hackles rise+. I also know that I have a similar effect on her. To put it bluntly: we just don’t like one another. It happens. People fall in loathe all the time. My numerous attempts to explain this to Seagull Boy have fallen on ears of cloth and he firmly clings to the erroneous belief that she and I are perfect for one another.
He grudgingly let the matter drop for a while, but when I told him about my recent break-up, the flame of his resolve instantly reignited with renewed vigour. I could hear the gears furiously turning even as the words “Bummer, dude. That’s harsh” left his disingenuous lips.
Several weeks later, I got the inevitable invitation:
“Dinner, you say? How nice. So who else have you invited?”
“Oh, just a few friends”
“Right. I don’t suppose she happens to be on the guest list?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me; I’m not in the mood”
“Er – uh, that is -”
“DON’T EVEN FUCKING THINK OF LYING, OR IT WILL GO VERY BADLY FOR YOU!”
“mumble”
“Sorry? Didn’t quite catch that”
“Yes. She’ll be there”
“Oh, what a shame, it turns out I’m busy that night after all”
That’s the trouble with faith. Rational arguments simply don’t work against a true believer.
+ Perhaps if she made other things rise, it wouldn’t be quite so dire, but she doesn’t and it is *shudder*
the other side of the mountain 