6 March 2014

Pip! Pip!

When you go to the airport do you prefer

a) to dump and run
b) get them to the ticket counter and then leave
c) follow people all the way to the security gates and have to be forcibly removed by security guards?

Lovers and Love Actually aside of course.

I'm the first one. I really don't like protracted goodbyes.  And that's in pretty much all scenarios.

On the phone and need to go - Bye! (hang up)

At the pub and need to go - Bye! (leave)

At the airport going overseas - Bye! (climb out of car, grab bags, kiss driver and go)

It's not that I don't like you, it's just that protracted goodbyes make me uncomfortable.  They are insipid small talk coloured with meaningless emotion. They are the itching of a healing sunburn. They are the wrong pair of underpants on a long run. They are bright orange crocs on grown men.

The Brits have a habit of ending phone conversations like this 'Bye, bye, bye, byedy, bye, bye, byedy, bye, bye, bye, bye, byedybyedybyedybyedy, bye'.  When I first lived in the UK I used to wait to the end and then say Bye.  But I got wise, started saying Bye first and then hung up after their first 'Bye'.  It might have been culturally inappropriate but for the love of humanity - one Bye is enough. Shove a good in front of it if you want to get all gooey on me.

So look - if during our conversation, our time at the pub or our visit I haven't managed to say the things I need to say to you, or vice versa, we'll catch up again.  Take it for granted that I love you and everything is fine and that a hug, a kiss and a 'Bye' is more than enough.

Unless I end the conversation by saying 'Screw you'.

Then I'm probably mad.

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