A Dish Best Served Cold

There are many out there who have the ability to cut others down in order to feed their need for power.

I remember first coming into contact with these types, and there are a number of them, when I moved into the larger sphere of world, work, and university. It struck me as something alien, perhaps from the middle-classes; something that would end in violence if it happened in the environment I was brought up in.

Clever words usually ended up in a bloody nose.

My wife was out running last night. She runs with a group known as ‘Fit Mums and Friends”. Usually they do a run that is about three to four miles in length and taken at leisurely pace; last night was different. They did a five miler and did it quickly.

A new ‘Mum’ was there. She was a face that my wife had not seen before, but it was a face that seemed to fit in with the others. A dominating confidence fell from her every word (and there were many of them). My wife called her a ‘great train robber’ as she was able to run pretty fast whilst still carrying a few pounds.

From the off it was written in the stars that these two would not fall in love.

This morning the encounter still resonated. My wife recounted the interaction. Spoke of the way in which the other’s dominance of the social occasion was manufactured through the weilding of power over the newcomer. My wife was the outsider; and was fair game.

My ‘Great Train Robber’ remark was not something that she said or even thought of; it was mine. And so the tale comes back to the cold dish that we cannot serve in the way that very cold fish can. Our revenge has to be stirred and simmered until it reaches boiling point.

And then boils over.

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