Everytime I mention the name of Bella, my best friend shudders.
Beautiful, but mildly unhinged.
She told me she didn't like what I did for a job (journalist), and I had to leave and get a career in banking. Yeah, great.
She also started to tell me what to wear when we were going out.
We had a date in Uxbridge, to meet her corporate work colleagues. So I turned
up in a t-shirt with a lightning bolt on it, some cowboy boots, a cravat and trilby.
I never ever saw her after that. I felt like Robin Friday.
I will never eclipse what my friend wore to meet his wife; silver magician trousers and flame shirt. The powder blue cravat compared to that get up is positively high end.
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