My name is Rachel Green. You may remember me and my friends from a television documentary broadcast 1994-2004. We don’t see each other so often now – perhaps about once a month. Monica and Chandler are still married, have a couple of kids, and live near to me in New York. Phoebe and Joey have moved a bit further away. Of course I still see Ross a lot: he is supposed to be my boyfriend after all, though not that you would believe it from his behaviour last week.
I caught him flirting with one of those hard-nosed business women that we seem to breed here in New York. You know the type? They are coiffed and manicured down to the very last keratin filament of their ambition-fuelled bodies. Their real faces are disguised under an elaborate make-up superstructure. Then they spoil the whole look by cladding their delicate feet in lumpy old trainers to march through the Manhattan streets to work.
I think Ross was seriously tempted. He’s lost quite a lot of confidence since he was sacked from his teaching post at New York University and took up work as a UK schools inspector. So it must have been quite a thrill that someone showed interest in him at all, never mind that the person flirting with him was a successful business woman.
Of course I was furious, and I did well not to show it. I just told him that he needed to make up his mind between me and her. Eventually he saw sense and the yuppie pretender was despatched back to the land of stocks, shares and spreadsheets.
Dreamaticus 