OFF THE RECORD
IT’S not unnatural for someone to show off something new. In this particular case the woman in question was inordinately proud of her new extensions and had them proudly protruding at an important ladies lunch. At first there were just a few disdainful glances and some whispered remarks behind hands. However as the afternoon wore on and the chardonnay slipped effortlessly down, the whispers became louder and the remarks got nasty. End result, a full on cat fight with insults thrown back and forth until management had to step in to separate the warring parties. Some people don’t like change.
THE curse of social media strikes again. This visiting miss had arrived in town for a week’s holiday and was staying with a friend. Of course when you are in town on some R & R, heading out on the town to check out the action is compulsory. Her host had work to consider and was safely tucked up in bed while the party girl was living it up in the hottest spots. Naturally she had to post something while out and about which her friend happened to see. All well and fine except the party girl had borrowed, without permission, the very expensive coat of her friend. Hell hath no fury and especially when a cigarette burn was discovered in the now not very expensive coat. Insta outfit equals insta get outta here.
SHARE the work and then share the glory. It would seem to be a simple equation but this dame has a new version. Do very little of the work and then claim all of the glory. A recent charity do was put on successfully due to the tireless work of the many who gave up endless hours to ensure that mucho moolah was raised. Sadly this one, who was at best a part time helper, was telling one and all after the event that it was a huge success solely because of her. You can imagine how that news was received by the real workers.
Think of this as the straw breaking the camel’s back. For many a year this good Samaritan has tolerated the rantings and ravings of her embittered friend who would unload on all and sundry whenever she rang. The hope was that by listening to the venting it would allow the bitter b*%@# to release the bile and have a happier life. No such luck because the last rave turned into an attack on the good friend and her family. That was it - thank you and good night, don’t call again.