Crushed Diaries

A blog for Young Adults

Friday, February 02, 2007

Misery Guts.

I used to play tennis with a girl called Shirley. The only thing we had in common was Sarah Lee deserts. Once a week, we’d go to each other’s homes after playing singles and prepared the sickliest dinner we could think of. Once, we guzzled an entire Sarah Lee cheesecake between us, and I felt so full up, it kept threatening to spew out of my throat on the way home. I thought Shirley was one of my closest friends until we decided to go on a last minute cheapo package holiday together.

I knew my holiday was doomed the moment we got on the plane to take us to Minorca.
‘I hope it’s going to be hot,’ she moaned like a mantra, round and round it went in my brain.
‘I don’t care what the weather’s like. I just want to eat foreign food. ’I said. Well, I knew our friendship was on the rocks when we ended up sharing a room in the self-catering flat we rented out for the week. Shirley accused me of talking in my sleep, and I told her off for keeping me up all night, due to her grinding her teeth. It’s a wonder she had any teeth left at all.

If that wasn’t bad enough, it never stopped raining. I persuaded Shirley to hire a car so that we could explore the island. I can’t drive, so I had to rely on her to chauffeur me around everywhere. Poor Shirley. I would have felt sorry for her but she never stopped moaning. And, when we almost got arrested after she mistakenly drove the wrong way up a one way road, she flipped completely.

She screamed and swore until she turned blue in the face. Unfortunately, she wasn’t dying but stressed she was cold and hungry. We ended up in a deserted café overlooking the wind blown sea front and ordered mussels and chips. My holiday companion was in such a vile mood, she didn’t enjoy her food, which must have been the first time in her moaning life.

I only saw Shirley smile once when the sun came out on our last day. She rolled up her jeans, took off her trainers and paddled in the contaminated sea. She didn’t even bother to drown herself, but kept saying she loved the sun. When the sun went out, she sulked and sulked and didn’t speak to me until we were back in England.

I suspected our friendship was on the rocks and the way I was feeling about her after the holiday, I was delighted. However, I knew it was up to me to make the first move if I wanted to continuing being friends. I never realised she was such a misery guts until we went on holiday together. I couldn’t care less if I never saw her again. But, when she mumbled those magic words, ‘Sarah Lee’, I knew I could never dump her and those sickly dinners. We’re friends again now but we never dared to go on holiday together ever again.

Copyright: Frances Lynn, 2006


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