Here’s today’s over-a-year-old ficlet. Enjoy!
Booze For Thought
“Your problem,” said Jake, “Is that y’dunno ‘ow to communicate.”
Rich’s smile faded from his face. “What? That’s bollocks.”
“Nah, nah, fink ‘bout it. Ever’ girl you’ve ever dated, right, ever’ girl up sayin’ you never click wivver, y’know? S’like… s’like you’re not open enuff wiv’m.”
“You,” smiled Rich, “Are quite clearly drunk.”
“Th’drink’s got bug’rall t’do wivvit.”
“The drink has everything to do with it, from where I’m sitting. I can communicate! I do! It’s not my fault that the girls I’ve been out with have the emotional depth of a Politician. I can communicate. They can’t.”
“B’locks.”
“Nor can you, apparently. How many of those have you had?”
“Dunno. Lots… lost count af’er th’first… first seven or so.”
“Right, give me your keys.”
As Rich helped his friend into the back seat of his car, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Jake, in his drunken stupor, was right. He’d have plenty of time to think about it tomorrow, while he was cleaning the vomit out of the back seat.
Commentary…
Nothing really insightful here – I just like the irony of someone who is having trouble stringing together a complete sentence telling another person that they’re incapable of communicating. Glod knows where the relationship stuff keeps coming from, though. I’m sure someone else can read whatever they like into that.
In Retrospect…
Again, this is a ficlet I like from start to finish. These fellas strike me as a prototypical “Mark and Seb”.