On the throne

Mel phoned me last night. That, in itself, is a little unusual, she prefers text messaging. But it was where she was when she called that was the most interesting. She was in a pub with a friend. In the ladies. In a stall, on the throne, having a pee.

She had, she said, only had two drinks, but she repeated "I really miss you big time" often enough for me to realise that the alcohol was contributing to the conversation. That conclusion was reinforced when she even invited G and I to sleep at her place tonight, an offer she has rescinded this morning.