In which The Author talks to one of a pair of twins
Last time my friend Ross was down from London, we ended up having a late drink in Thereisnospoon in Aberdare. My friend Liz L. was there too – her boyfriend was away for the weekend, so she was largeing it with her pals. She’s extremely pretty, intelligent, very pleasant – and has an identical twin sister. She came over to talk, and in the course of the conversation I let it slip that I fancied her sister.
‘Surely you must fancy me as well,’ she said.
I replied, ‘Theoretically, yes – but Vicci wears glasses!’
(To adapt Dorothy Parker’s maxim, ‘I’ll always make passes at girls who wear glasses.’)
Knowing Liz as I do, I imagined that she’d grass me up immediately she got home. Anyway, last night, I was talking to Liz in the pub and asked her if she remembered the conversation.
‘Yeah, you told me you fancied my sister,’ she said. ‘I haven’t told her, though. She’s still hung up on her ex.’ (Vicci was dumped by her boyfriend a little while ago.) Then she dropped the bombshell. ‘She really really likes you, though!’
Talk about kicking a man when he’s down!
An Autobiography in Random Chapters 