Nothing Is Sacred.

Given a 'nod' by David Mcmahon 



Long distance love means that, after over two months in my new house, The Boyfriend only met The Housemates for the first time this weekend. I was nervous about how they might all get on. I shouldn't have been. They bonded over stories of my stupidity- I now hate them all.



"Did she tell you about that first weekend after she had moved in?" S giggled.

The Boyfriend looked at me. "Noooo...." he replied.

"Ohmygod! It was sooooooo funny. I felt really bad that I had a fridge full of meat, what with her being a veggie and everything, but when we went to this farmer's market I couldn't help but buy these Buffalo burgers we'd had a taste of".

B nodded agreement. "They were delicious," he said.



"So we bring them home and we have them for tea. Laura asked us how the chicken was after we had finished... she thought Buffalo burgers were chicken! I really wondered what we had let ourselves in for... I had to explain that a buffalo wasn't a chicken. It was a buffalo. Which is different from a chicken. Thus, the burgers were made from buffalo. Not chicken. You'd have thought that I was trying to explain the theory of relativity to her!" She cackled, and sounded quite evil I thought.



"Crikey," The Boyfriend said, "Don't ask Laura about chickens, whatever you do..."

I glared at him, willing silence on him. Or death. "Don't-" I said. 

"Go on- what?" S and B chorused.

"Laura thinks that it is okay to have sex with chickens," he declared. S and B turned to stare at me. "Don't say it like that!" I cried, "Tell the bloody story properly if you are going to tell it at all". S patted my shoulder.

"Are you sure we even need to know what out lodger does with chickens in her spare time?" she asked. I furrowed my brow at her. The Boyfriend grew animated.



"Basically, she got really, really drunk on a glass and a half of Pinot Grigio one afternoon last summer. When I say drunk, I mean D.R.U.N.K."

"I'd caught the sun!" I interrupted. "I had sunstroke or something!"

"It was April," The Boyfriend shot back. S took the flute of Cava from my hand and put it on the table out of my reach. "Anyway. We were sat in the garden with friends and before you know it, Laura is saying she totally understands why people might have sex with animals and maybe it is okay..."

"Oh gosh...." I moaned under my breath. "Oh deary, deary me".

"I'm cooking chicken tonight," S said to me, seriously. "Can I leave you unattended in the kitchen?"

I sarcastically grinned at her. "I wasn't talking about sex with DEAD chickens," I defiantly told her, to which the three of them burst out laughing and between giggles B laughed, 'But with a live one it is okay then, is it?"



I was getting flustered. "I didn't mean.... no... I just...." I felt colour flush my cheeks as I stumbled over my words in a bid to defend myself. I was unable to explain because the noise of the hysterical people in the front room was overwhelming. I had just meant that lots of people like to do deviant things in the bedroom, things out of the ordinary, and that is how they get their kicks... that was all I said on that tragic day in the garden, I am sure.



What do you mean you don't believe me?



Look- I may as well get it all out in the open now. So we are all singing from the same hymn sheet. Yes, I thought that a buffalo burger was made from chicken. Yes, I once defended bestiality. I can rap the whole of Gangster's Paradise, I can fit twenty-two marshmallows in my mouth, I don't know how to prepare a cabbage, I cook really rubbish lasagne and my rhubarb crumble tends to be too tart. I squeak when I sneeze, I can't see past the end of my nose without my glasses and I cannot be trusted to put my glass of juice on the floor by the sofa because I ALWAYS knock it over. There. Now you can all laugh.



And I can sulk.