To be honest, the evening probably started on the wrong note. A frank discussion about nether-regions waxing – before we’d even ordered our first cocktail, I should add – had me proclaiming a bad ‘bum fluff’ wax related in one story to be a ‘bum mullet’.
The three of us (birthday girl GT, our long-serving mutual friend [Name Withheld For Legal Reasons] and yours truly) were at GT’s favourite bar in Sydney – her “home away from home” – although admittedly, it was a little further away from her home than I would have liked since we’d walked there in our heels and I’d subsequently lost all radio contact with my toes.
Luckily alcohol helps in these situations and we hit the cocktails. After our first round, the owner of the bar sent GT over a complimentary cocktail for her birthday. Strangely, it was the fruity cocktail that I’d been drinking (and not the ‘dirty martini’ she’d been drinking) and so she gave it to me. I like to think this mistake happened because the manager had asked the waitress “Which cocktail is GT drinking? You know, the glamourous one in glasses…” and the waitress had assumed he was talking about me.
Yes, that must be it, especially since I’d been the one shrieking “BUM MULLET!” at the top of my voice.
Then the moment that I’d been waiting all my life happened. Three glasses of champagne arrived, unbidden, with the words “These come with the compliments of the three men in the corner.” Following bar etiquette, we all turned and raised our glasses to them. The fact that one of them was actually GT’s friend and that they were all gay did not detract from this genuinely exciting moment.
Anyway, it was little wonder that after so much excitement and free drinks, the conversation should turn to mathematics – or rather, Venn diagrams. You see, we decided to work out if the three of us had ever all shared the same ‘conquest’ – you know, whether there was a point where our three circles (so to speak) met.
The answer was no. This was, in turns, not surprising and yet very surprising.
It was not surprising because there are well over 3 billion males on the planet. It was surprising, however, because two of us were from Perth and we all know what that means.
However, the most surprising thing of all was the point where GT and [NWFLR]’s circles overlapped.
“Who is it?” I asked.
GT and [NWFLR] exchanged quick, embarrassed looks and then looked away.
“WHO?” I demanded.
“Uh, we share [Man Least Likely],” [NWFLR] confessed.
“WHAT? [MAN LEAST LIKELY]????” I was outraged. I had known about [Man Least Likely]’s affaire d’amour with GT but not that he’d got it awnnnnn with [NWFLR]. That particular little secret had been kept from me for fifteen years. Fifteen years!
[NWFLR], for her part, was a little bit pleased with herself – about the secret keeping, that is, but perhaps not the conquest itself.
“I am an international lady of mystery!” she said. “Anyway, you and GT share someone, too.”
She was right, of course. GT had briefly dated my husband a couple of years before I met him and, in fact, had introduced him to me.
“Yes, but he’s my husband and the father of my three kids!” I argued. “I think that counts as Full Disclosure! I mean, we’re talking [Man Least Likely] here. [MAN-LEAST-FUCKING-LIKELY]!!”
And amidst all the subsequent laughter and shrieking and carry-on, I paused for reflection. Even with the sixty-four years of friendship the three of us shared between us, there were still surprises to be had. What a many-spendoured thing female friendship is…
Happy 40th Birthday, GT.