Rural Village Life

I’m going to keep this short because Fife said he was going for a ‘quick run’ and he won’t be gone too long.

Yesterday was a fabulous day. We went into the village did a bit of food shopping, and we ran into a couple Fife knows. Like Fife, their cottage is a second home, and they’re only up for the long weekend. We got to chatting, and they suggested that we meet them for dinner in this gastro pub a couple of villages over.

I was quite psyched to get dressed up and go out, because – as much as I love, love, love hanging out withFife – four days in a small cottage is a bit much. In fact, I brought an outfit just in case. (Actually, I brought way too many clothes ‘just in case’. But, in my defence, I have no idea what people do in a rural village. There could have been a fancy dress rave for all I knew.)

I made myself presentable for a night out, but Fife thought I’d gone over the top a little. I had on a sparkly sleeveless green top, a black crop jacket, a short black skirt, patterned tights, and my sexy knee length black boots. I looked good – for once. But Fife totally made fun of me and said I looked like a resident of Oz and started singing ‘No good deed goes unpunished’. (A song from Wicked. Why does he knows the lyrics to that song? I really need to ask.) I ended-up changing, and I’m glad I did because everyone at the gastro-pub was far more Jack Wills than Zara.

The couple was so nice, and even though I was like nearly twenty years younger than anyone else at the table, they all treated me like a peer. I guess things are different now that I’m no longer a student or an intern. When I was with Goatee, I totally got treated like a kid, but I guess when people hear ‘intern’ they think ‘kid’. But now, when Brad and Angela (not their real name obviously) asked what I did for a living (and I think they totally expected me to say ‘student’), and I said ‘I work for a literary agency’, they treated me like a normal person.

You know, it’s nice. It’s nice dating an older man and not being treated like some sort of ditzy arm candy. (Not that anything about me is arm candy. I guess a better sentence would have been ‘It’s nice dating an older man and not being treated like the kid babysitter.’)

 But yeah, good night all around. Today we’re going for a walk in the woods for Fife to collect bark and straw for Easter lunch. He’s dead determined to spice the meal with ‘the bounties of nature’ (my god he can be such a dweeb). And then after lunch tomorrow we’re going to the village for egg rolling and other communal festivities.

Right, I’d better go. Have a good weekend everyone.

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