By Petra Pan
I hadn’t seen him since he told me calmly and matter of factly that he didn’t want to invest in our relationship anymore, as if I were a business associate he needed to lay off.
“Your work has been adequate but I’m downsizing in the romance department, so good luck in your further endeavours”.
Six years had passed but there he was, bald and bold as brass. Being a grown up, my first response was to prepare a polite smile and a wave but apparently manners are so last season.
Kojak, wearing an ill-fitted cheap blue suit, which looked like he had sewn it himself from old sheets, lunged for a group of girls while two of his friends jock-blocked my friendly approach.
Then followed a farce where his fake laughs were as plenty as the number of his extra chins, both making him wobble disgustingly.
Age had not been kind to Kojak, but seemed to have done the most damage to his eyesight. For the next hour he would leave and reappear at the bar three times, acting as if he couldn’t see me. I expect the Razzie nomination to land in his mailbox any day now.
Eventually, we opted to leave rather than ponder whether it was my radiant beauty that blinded him and his friends were trying to shield him or if he had left his spine in the other suit.
From this sad event, I conclude two things:
- Poor eyesight is apparently on the list of sexually transmitted deceases
- The say time will heal your broken heart, but discovering your ex is a complete wanker will do the trick as well.
* Yes, quoting SATC is a complete cliché, but they are doing reruns every night and I’m weak.
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