In which our intrepid hero transforms his rage into another couple of creatures.

Sunday. Ask friend if he and his girlfriend are available for Thursday night dinner. Friend needs to consult with his girlfriend. Advise friend that I need plenty of leadtime, as I will need to cook a day in advance. Friend promises to call the following day.

Monday. No call.

Tuesday. Receive Facebook message to the effect that friend has not asked his girlfriend yet. Reiterate need for advance warning.

Wednesday. Call several times; no response. Inform friend (via Facebook) that menu has changed, as a result of lack of contact and diminished leadtime. Request urgent confirmation as to whether they will attend.

Thursday, 3.20pm. Friend updates Facebook status, anticipating long day.

Thursday, 6pm. Still no contact. Attempt to ring friend’s girlfriend; leave message. Attempt to ring friend’s mobile; no success. Attempt to ring friend’s house; parents answer, but pretend not to speak English. Reflect that friend in early thirties who still lives with parents is unlikely to be reliable.

Thursday, 9pm. Receive call. Girlfriend had picked friend up from home at 4pm; couple had then been busy “all day”. After pressuring, friend admits that he and girlfriend will not be able to attend dinner that evening. Yes/no answer apparently requires four fucking days.

Thursday, 9.20pm. Eat dinner. Several servings left over.

Thursday, 9.33pm. Friend apparently arrives home; posts Facebook status to the effect that he doesn’t know when he’ll get to sleep. Reflect that this may not be an issue if friend would haul arse out of bed before 3pm.

Thursday, 10pm. Attempt to sublimate rage with Spore Creature Creator, with the following outcome:


Thursday, 11pm. Grind teeth.

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