The avenues of Life.

London, late evening, year twothousandandfour.

A woman talking to another woman over the phone.
"Her? That one at the wedding? The booby one? 'Course I remember her!"
She turns towards me and my friend, him more bewildered than me. It's his phone she's making the call from. "Well, she has REALLY big boobs. What else can i say?" The blink of an eye and she's back at it. "Oooooh yes! That guy. Wedding as well. Handsome one, yes?" Now it's the turn of her husband to pop a slightly worried head into the bedroom where we all are sitting. "it's allright, dear, she's telling me about the wedding" she waves to him. His eyes roll in mocking despair."Ah, women and the damn Coronation Street" and he goes back to the very serious talks held just outside the door.
"So" asks the woman to the other woman "Is she shagging him? Oh did he? No way! Aaaah. Well this is good then!" and she turns to us, half a hand on the receiver "He needed some persuading. Not much, mind you. But he's young...".
Of course, we didn't mind.
Or, well, I didn't.
It wasn't my mobile she was calling Baghdad from.
It was his.