“Are you insane?” my sister shrieked at me. “For the love of all things holy, you’ve just been royally dumped so why on earth would you think of flying to Turkey to spend another holiday with a dancing Turk. I don’t want to be watching you on the “Turkish Love Rats” episode of the Jeremy Kyle show.”
We were both drinking tea in my Mum’s spotless kitchen whilst my sister was enjoying a rare child-free five minutes, as my Dad had taken the kids to the local park. I was disappointed that my sister wasn’t as excited as I was thinking about jetting off again, I responded by saying “Firstly, Ahmed does not dance and secondly what’s being jilted got to do with the price of peas? I am talking about going on holiday not eloping. I thought you of all people would be happy that I’m not moping around the house in my undercrackers with hairy legs and a unibrow, crying into my Merlot.”
“I see it’s time for the bitch slap of truth; you’ve done the whole rebound thing, now you need to stay here and sort yourself out cupcake! Get a proper job and your own place; you can’t live with Mum and Dad forever. Do you really want to be living here overdosing on day time television with Mum and discussing the virtues of compost with Dad?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to do the happy pants dance Boo” I said using her childhood nickname “but I thought you might be pleased that I’m moving on after what was an intensely humiliating experience.
“I tell you what’s humiliating; that minging bridesmaid dress you expected me to wear – now that was humiliating.
Her voice was beginning to grate and I contemplated shaving her eyebrows as I had done when we were kids; sure, she may not speak to me for a couple of weeks but I could live with that.
I ignored her and soldiered on trying to get her to understand my view-point “Was it not you that said I need to stop being a spectator of life and start being a contributor?”
“Am I good or what! No wait, that was from one of the slogans inside the free fortune cookies that came with the takeaway. Anyhoo, the point is playtime’s over and it’s back to real life now.”
“Boo don’t tell me if you could, wouldn’t you like to jump on a plane and travel somewhere hot and exciting for a couple of weeks?”
“Dallas, I am a single working mother of two young girls, with a budget smaller than Kylie’s booty shorts and the social life of a nun; discount coupons are exciting to me. Look love, if I were you, I’d forget all about Turkey and start looking in the classified section for flats to let”. She pulled a copy of the local newspaper out of her handbag with a flourish “here’s one I made earlier and I’ve already gone through it and there’s a couple within your price range. No time like the present”, she said passing me her mobile.
So just like that my Turkish Dreams dissolved in a cloud of disappointment and practicality; but destiny is a funny thing!