Who invited him anyway?

I’ve been hungover all day today.
I met up with some of the supermarket guys for ‘a lunchtime Bank Holiday drink and darts game’ which dragged on and descended into drunken-ness. I was holding my own and doing ok and getting ready to head home, when Jared started asking me about women and I found myself talking about Philippa. I did my usual half-cut trick of being far too loud and far too open, and promptly broadcast my feelings and thoughts to anyone within a ten-feet radius. One of the other guys at the table - a new recruit to the store called ‘Tommo’ or something - said “I know her. She used to work at my dads office. The thing about her is, she’s got a really great body, but she doesn’t know how to use it.”
I suddenly felt really sick. I don’t think I believe anything really happened between them, I think he was just trying to wind me up, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and it made me feel really uncomfortable. Trouble was, I knew that if I made excuses and left, my feelings would be obvious, and he would have won. So I did what any man of my age would do in those circumstances - I drank through it….
As a result, I’ve spent all day today feeling absolutely awful, both physically and emotionally. If I opened my eyes, the room would spin and my stomach would churn; if I closed my eyes, I’d see an image of Philippa being frotted by that long-haired, lanky, devilishly-handsome bastard of a delivery driver. Not a nice day at all.

RC 31-8-10