There was a small family gathering at Korhomme Towers recently. My sister, who lives in Australia, was visiting; we haven’t seen one another for something like twenty years. Several friends of the family drifted in and out.
My daughter was here, and invited M to join us for lunch. Now, M is one of today’s essentials for a twenty-something woman; a gay BFF— a ‘best (boy) friend forever’. He’s as good and helpful as his designation; he took other visitors to the airport, saving me the trip; he said he lived nearby. His idea of ‘nearby’ isn’t quite the same as mine. No matter.
After he’d gone, we were chatting.
“What a waste,” said my sister.
“Yes, a waste. A waste to women.”
I think this was meant as a compliment. Perhaps.