The dying process begins the minute we are born, but it accelerates during dinner parties. How often have we heard someone say 'I could have died'. Of course no one actually died; or did they?
"Hello, how are you? Come on in." I don't really want you here but for some reason my husband likes you. "I love your dress."
No you don't, cow. You're probably muttering to yourself 'Where did she get that monstrosity'. "Thank you."
"This is my daughter, Naomi, and her ... um ... partner, Sarah." I don't approve of their lesbian lifestyle and I'm upset that I won't have grandchildren. "Sarah, will you get Rachel a drink. Oh, there's the door. Excuse me."
"Hi, Rachel. What will you have? I've made Manhattans but you might prefer wine." That dress really shows off her body.
"Oh, I'd love a Manhattan. Thank you." Where are all the men? "So what do you do, Sarah?" Bricklayer, mechanic?
"I'm a stripper." That'll get them talking. "What about you?"
"I'm in advertising."
"Sarah, darling, will you get me another." Get away from the hottie in the red dress; you're with me, remember.
"One more Manhattan coming up." How many is that? Please don't get pissed and embarrass me. Not again.
"This is Fred and Ginger." These are my friends; God help you if you're rude to them.
"Ginger's my nickname. Fred, Ginger ... anyway, my real name's Sonia, but you can call me Ginger if you want." I'd rather you didn't, but ...
"Darling," Veronica called up the stairs. "Our guests are arriving." Leave your bloody toy trains and come rescue me.
"Fred, d'you wanna come up and see my new engine?" I'll escape this nightmare if it kills me.
"Later. darling, I'm ready to serve." You spoil this for me and you're dead.
Veronica looked at her watch. "My son, Paul, will be here soon. He's a trader, you know." Please think Stock Market, not Street Market.
"Oh, sorry, dear; Paul rang, he's running late. Don't wait dinner for him, he'll join us for dessert." Crafty beggar.
"Oh, well, I guess dinner is served."
"Okay, I'll sit here, nearest the kitchen. Fred, you're on my left. Er ...Henry, you're on my right, next to Ginger. Rachel next to Fred. Sarah next to Rachel. Naomi next to Ginger. Paul can fit on the end." When he bothers to turn up.
"Hello, Sonia, it's been a while." I've missed my mate, Fred.
"Henry. When was the last time we all got together?" Don't mind you, can't stand your wife.
"Oh, must have been last Christmas. The party at the Higgins'." When Veronica and you had that row over the catering. Who cares if Mrs. Higgins served Tesco's Finest instead of spending all day in the kitchen?
"Starters. I hope everyone is okay with crayfish cocktail?" Yes, Rachel, I know you're allergic.
"Er ... sorry, Veronica; I have a problem with shellfish." And you damned well know it, bitch.
"Just salad then."
"Are you really a stripper?" I wouldn't mind seeing your act.
"Sort of, Rachel. I strip wallpaper. I'm a decorator. I just say I'm a stripper to wind up Veronica. She doesn't like me and I really don't care."Naomi, stop looking at me like that. I'm just trying to be polite.
"Fred, you're into trains, like Henry?"
"Not really ...er ...Rachel is it?"
"Henry, will you serve the wine, dear?" Get off your backside and help. And keep your eyes off Rachel.
"Fill me up, Dad." I need it to kill the pain. Sarah can't keep her eyes off other women.
"Beef Wellington; how imaginative."
"Actually, it's venison. Bramble jus?"
"What wine do you want me to serve?" I know what a perfectionist you are.
"Oh, I think the petit verdot don't you?"
"Mum, you know Sarah and I don't eat red meat."
"Sorry, dear, I forgot." You had no problem with it until you met her. If you think I'm going to cook something else, forget it.
"Rachel, are you okay? Look, her eyes are swelling."
Trust you to notice. You haven't taken your eyes off of her all evening."Maybe someone should call an ambulance."
"I'll drive her. It'll be quicker."
"But you've been drinking, dear. Fred can take her; he's been on soft drinks." If you think I'm going to give you a chance like that, think again, buster.
"Dad, any more o' that wine left?" Yes. I'm pissed. What ya gonna do 'bout it, Sarah?
"I think you've had enough, don't you?" Here we go again.
"You don' tell me whata do."
"No, but I do. It's time for you to leave. Take her home, Sarah."
"Not goin' with her."
"Then go to your room. Now!"
"Sorry about that. Is everyone ready for desert?"I could die of embarrassment. And where is my miscreant son?
"Fred's just texted; Rachel's going to be okay."
"Thank you, Ginger."
"Mum, sorry I'm late."
"You could have made an effort."
"I've come straight from work. Sorry I don't have a white colour job. A suit would be out of place on a market stall selling ladies knickers."
"Er ... could you get me a taxi. I think it's time I wasn't here."