When Alanna told them I was to be maid of honour, it took the Lolitas a couple of days to recover from not being chosen. Then their enthusiasm got the better of them: round they came, wagging their tails, begging to be involved with little yelps and leaps. So it seems that I’m not only in charge of a party, but also in charge of interns. The Lolitas have collated a list of possible guests from Alanna’s Facebook friends. It includes female family members, friends from school and women who regularly feature on her timeline. This approach seems intrusive to me, but the Lolitas assure me that it was suggested by Alanna. Certainly, she seems concerned with her presence on social media: she has over a thousand friends on Facebook and has meticulously completed her profile information. It took the Lolitas a whole weekend to get the list ready. Like I say, there are many activities a person can choose to do in their spare time. Alanna can ask the Lolitas to do anything, and they’ll promptly execute her request, like it’s just the thing they’ve been waiting for. The wedding isn’t even until June.

Still, she can’t make them like me. They leave the list on my desk in a bright yellow plastic folder and scamper towards the laundry room. There is a sticker on the folder that says a tick equals ‘compulsory’ and a heart is a ‘very close friend’. The folder looks thick. How many people can one woman form an emotional bond with? And, out of all of them, how is it possible that I have been chosen for this job?

The Lolitas reconvene at my chair. One of them perches on the armrest.

‘So?’ she says. ‘What do you think?’

The Lolitas are in shock when the realization finally hits that, no, Alanna and I are not even friends on Facebook.

AFTERSHAVE

Three Months Earlier

kittenwithasledgehammer

Sent: 18/11/2015 – 03:11

dear claude (seems less creepy tho a bit like im talking to some old french dude but who knows, maybe you are one, anythings possible)