Читать книгу William Walker’s First Year of Marriage: A Horror Story - Matt Rudd - Страница 27

Andy is unconscious, perhaps dead, on our sofa. Johnson called to say he fell asleep on the night bus and woke up in a depot near Hounslow. I feel as sick as I did on the third day of our honeymoon after eating the warm lamb rogan josh.

Isabel, on the other hand, is eating toast and contemplating a fry-up.

‘I think I’ll skip the next few pub outings. You three are lightweights.’

‘Fine by me.’

‘And it really is true, isn’t it? Blokes can spend a whole night in a pub talking about absolutely nothing whatsoever. No “how was the honeymoon?” or “how’s work?” or “sorry things didn’t work out with the waitress” or “terrible what’s going on in Bangladesh”.’

‘Blokes don’t need to natter on the whole time.’

‘Oh, I see. Okay. Still, at least I know how to shake my willy.’

Johnson was right—women should not be allowed to gatecrash bloke-nights.