Thursday, September 9, 2010

Turf War

Angela's mood varies. Sometimes she talks to me willingly. Other times, she breezes past me like I'm a fly on the wall which does not even deserve an opinion as to whether it should be swatted or not. Either way, I manage.

So, eventually, the day came when it looked like we were done being friends. She introduced me to her new boyfriend, a guy named Lucas. The boyfriend part wasn't a problem, trust me. Thorny issues did arise, however, because immediately after the introduction, my latest friend Lucas immediately identified me as his assailant, and accused me loudly and angrily of events alleged to have been perpetrated on one ill-defined drunken Thursday night of some obscure historical era, long forgotten and made vague by the sands of time.

Now, I shall not embark on a discussion of what is claimed to have happened; neither shall I speculate on what may not have happened. I can however confirm that it was dark. Suffice it to say that Angela got the firm impression that I am a ruffian of sorts and consequently cut off all links with me and expressed no desire to continue our association any longer. Further, she relayed this impression to her buddy GalPal. In a show of solidarity with her BFF, GalPal put me in her blacklist.

Shame. GalPal and I were geeting along rather nicely, starting to know one another well. Maybe she even liked me before this. Oh, well...

(I hope Anglea doesn't discover our clandestine texting.)

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