Member-only story
How I Learned Threesomes Aren’t For Me
Friendship FOMO is real
My hand tremored as I handed over the money, but I didn’t care who saw. I was too excited.
The man handed over the three bags. And my 5p change.
At 15p a bag, these sweets had taken all my weekly pocket money, but it was worth it.
My eight-year-old self walked home bathed in optimism. Yes, I was allowed to walk to the corner shop alone at 8. Sometimes, I was sent to buy something my mum needed, and I’d chant, ‘Sausages, Sausages, Sausages, ’ to myself until I got to the shop. Then I couldn’t remember what I’d gone for.
Sometimes, my dad would send me to buy 5 Hamlet cigars for him. These were different times.
However, I refused to do these errands once my grandad told me a joke about a little girl whose parents didn’t like her.
One day, they gave her money to buy sweets at the local shop, and she skipped along, singing, ‘Mummy and Daddy love me.`
When she got home, they’d moved.
Secure and well-adjusted child that I was, I refused to go to the shop for a year.
What did I do with my three bags of sweets?
I was in a trio friendship. I had two best friends, and we all had two best friends…
