Rina and I would keep in touch every few weeks or so and we would try to meet up about twice a year. She lived in the North West borders of the city where, I lived the complete opposite, so meeting up was a little bit of a chore to say the least (and if I’m honest she was alright but we had nothing in common and she hung out with a really bad crowd) but I still kept in touch none the less as a once or twice a year meet-up wasn’t really a big deal.
Until, I met my now husband that is.
Growing up a 1st generation child I always was very aware of the hidden snobbery and blatant racism within my culture but the absolute shock I got when that was geared towards me and my love was the last straw.
The Phone Call
“So, I just wanted to let you know that I got engaged!” Rina tells me
“Congratulations! That’s great news, I am engaged too actually it just recently happened while I was in the States” I reply
“Oh cool, is he Italian?” she says
“God no, American” I say
“I can’t stand Americans” she announces
I was so gobsmacked, I actually was speechless and that isn’t like me at all, I think I was in shock at what she just said and it really fucking hurt especially as my husband was deployed and serving his country in a war zone – how dare she.
“Angelo’s Italian, but he doesn’t speak it perfectly so when he called to ask my dad for my hand in marriage you should have seen the drama, as you know my dads hard of hearing and all. How did yours ask your dad, was your dad angry?”
“Actually, the circumstance with him getting his orders so suddenly for Iraq is why we bought our engagement forward than planned so he didn’t get around to asking my dad as we weren’t in the UK, asking my dad to be honest was the least of our worries” I say
“Oh right, well I better go, I have a busy day but keep in touch!”
That phone call really hurt my feelings, I didn’t give a shit about Rina, this just proved what a cow she was, I was upset for my husband, he was being disliked without even being known, Rina had never met him so how fucking dare she. Bitch. The joke is she had no place being so high and mighty when she used to hang around the with the local trash, take drugs every single day, participate in illegal activities and sleep around, her parents had no idea.
I would never call that piece of shit again.
A few months later I received a text from her inviting me to her hen weekend and the cost of the weekend was to be £150, I was fuming, absolutely fuming, If she thinks I am going to want to attend her last days as a singleton she had another thing coming.
“Sorry I am in America then, I won’t be able to attend” I texted back. She didn’t reply and I never heard from her again after that, and I deleted her number from my phone in anger, I needed to save all my strength and energy in coping at that current time, any other time I would have given her what for, so I didn’t call back either. I actually think she was pissed off that I declined her invitation, seriously, what a joke.
I never told my husband about that phone and text conversation, every-time the subject of how come so many of my friends disappeared I could never bring myself to tell him because I didn’t want him to feel bad. So it’s something I make sure I remember when I sometimes get down about not having as many friends as I used to have. Sometimes it’s better to have none at all, than ones who are assholes.