6pm last Friday at work, my FD and me, catching up about our love lives. Naturally, we are doing this in the ladies loos. There's a gorgeous girl, at least 10 years our junior, at the mirror applying perfect make up, listening to us - in fairness, she can't help but overhear as we're both pretty much going at it full steam.
FD: "It's never gonna work, he's a CEO and I'm a Financial Director - we're both used to getting our own way."
Me:"It's never gonna work, not while he's still seeing someone else, I'm 40 now and I know I want more."
Gorgeous Girl: Excuse me, how old did you say you are?
Gorgeous Girl (to FD): And you?
Gorgeous Girl: Oh god, so you two are saying it doesn't get any better?
FD & Me (look at each other, then at her): No! No, it doesn't!
Me (quite loudly): Seriously, it gets worse! Get married at 30, no matter who he is!
FD: That's a bit extreme, Bird.
Me: Or get out of London?
FD: That's better.
I shrug and we leave Gorgeous Girl to work it out herself, in silence, the only sound the tumbleweed of paper handtowels and the lost marbles of romantic hope rolling across the floor of the ladies in our wake.
Bah hah hah! (sorry)