I'm Not Sure, I've Often Wondered That Myself

‘I’m not sure, I’ve often wondered that myself,’ I said, hoping that the bore would go away once and for all. It was amazing that I could still put up with the drivel he was talking. I wasn’t sure exactly what he was saying, something about space ships, I think.

I was only talking to him because his wife, a local church warden, was the prettiest woman at the party. It’s only polite to talk to the husband before you make a play for the wife. That’s the whole point of going to a party, isn’t it? Men are such bores, so convinced that their silly games are, somehow, important. Women just know, they know what matters. Feline, manipulative, subversive, I love ’em.

She was standing beside him, slightly behind him, looking at me, smirking like they do. No doubt he was a good breadwinner, I thought, but we all like a bit of entertainment now and then, don’t we?

Eventually the bore got tired of boring me and he went to the kitchen to get a refill.

Without saying anything I took his wife by the hand and together we went outside behind the garage where I leant her against the wall, and we kissed, and we kissed some more.

She pushed me away when she thought I’d gone far enough.

I said, ‘Just tell me how such a pretty woman as you can be married to such a bore and remain faithful?’

‘I’m not sure,’ she said, ‘I’ve often wondered that myself.’