Question, when the Hubble is slightly inebriated what is the last thing you would expect him to talk to you about just before you go to sleep? I could except a conversation on the dishes being left, the ceiling needing a coat of paint, or even how he hates my hair when I straighten it. What you don’t expect is a conversation that starts with antidisestablishmentarianism. I only had the one gin and I had problems getting my brain cells to recognise that the word even existed. But when Mark chooses a subject in his slightly less sober state than normal I don’t just get big words thrown at me, oh no I get a history lesson.
I spent a pleasant evening in the neighbours garden sipping on my tea and watching the ever decreasing sobriety of the three I sat with. Conversation ebbed and flowed and the decrease of coherence went with an increase of gibberish. No honestly, and I know that Mark will deny it, but at one stage Mark and John were talking to each other, agreeing and disagreeing in that manly, brotherly polite way, as they both went off at a tangent to different topics. By this time I was feeling the effect of my half size gin liquor with sparkling water and found it bloody funny.
Aimee had heard her husbands points of view more often than she cared to remember as I had heard Mark give his. But this was their first encounter and men are of course men. I mean what did I think they were going to have in common, Mark is a rugby man, John a football supporter, and the differences accumulated from there. Apart from being neighbours and Aimee and I being friends there wasn’t anything similar about the two men, but it worked, at least I think it did. I’m not sure yet, we don’t know if we’ll ever be invited to theirs again.
I don’t know about Aimee, or any other woman I know to be honest, so I’ll ask. Is there a point girls, when you think to yourself, oh my God what the hell are they talking about? I’m not thick, at least I don’t think I am. So how the conversation got to Machiavelli, Medici and the Roman Catholic Church, Darwinism and on the subtleties of accents around Britain, I’ll never know.
Machiavelli! I’ve heard of him and have a rough idea what he’s all about, but over beers on a Sunday night, are they for real?
They threw facts at each other and I just filled in the details. I can recall the Italian families of the time only because I’m a Art fan. So at least I sort of understood. Aimee didn’t have a clue.
I felt it was all getting a little bit too serious until the Boys started to talk gibberish. Both talking to the other, the conversation swayed back and forth almost as much as they did until if you listened to them you found they were both on totally different subjects, so much so that when Aimee came back after a visit to the kitchen, neither of them could tell her what they were talking about.
Home for midnight. We got to bed about one and there it was, hanging in the air like a birthday banner blowing in the wind. Antidisestablishmentarianism.
I’m now aware that, John is an all right guy, Aimee is a funny gal and that someone invented a word that contradicts itself. Mark explained that the word was a way to describe the movement that is against the people that are for the church, and I let him ramble until he had got it off his chest, it seemed to really bug him that someone could make up a word that meant that someone was against others being against something. I explained politely that my gin had left my brain on hold and that he was better off leaving the explanation until the morning.
I may even get around to explain why the word exists. Although now that he’s sobered up I think he might be able to explain it properly, but in all honesty I think I’d need to be either asleep or drunk to sit and listen.
All I wanted was a quiet Sunday night. I got good company, a lovely cup of tea, and erh… well just say some really strange conversation. We didn’t get to sleep until 1am, but I made it to the swimming lessons for 6:50 this morning but that’s another story.