Humiliating Tales of Humiliation Episode 5: A Way with Words

It was a sleepy Sunday night in one of those towns in the north of England that seem to have soot and a Tesco and not much else. I was tired, a little jet lagged, but still, having a good enough time with my then boyfriend and another couple.

Over dinner, we laughed, told stories, and carried on - especially the men since they were old friends who only saw each other a few times a year.

After the meal, we went to a pub. Both guys were total boozers and when they went up to the bar to buy another round, I looked at the woman and without an ounce of malice or pity, plainly asked, "Doesn't the drinking get to you?"

What followed were a strange few minutes with me patiently waiting for an answer while she jerked around in her seat like a just caught fish dying on the line. I mean, after we left the restaurant but before we got to the pub, her fellow had made a point of stopping the car to get himself more beer for later. He was going to drink alone after date night was over - surely she had an opinion she wanted to share! Then slowly as a sunrise, it occurred to me that it's not a good idea to casually ask a quiet, British bank teller you have known for 2 ½ hours what she thinks of her husband’s alcoholism. 

Duh.

All I can say in my defense is that I was tired and what I was thinking in my head had accidentally fallen of my mouth. I was about to apologize when she quickly blurted, "Yes," a nanosecond before the boys sat down with more beer. 

A year later, she left him.

From what I could tell she was a sweet person and deserved better than some small town drunk ten years her senior. Hey, wait a minute...we both did!

And another thing: is it bad that I was secretly happy for my small role in their demise?

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