My wife had told me to get into the Internet long ago. She always said things like "stop being a technophobe" and "You're living in the past.". Obviously, I can't be a complete "technophobe" in this day and age. Hell, I think everything's powered by a computer somehow nowadays, and my "job" as a freelance writer sometimes has me using computers. Usually I like to use good old handwriting; so much more personal than letters as cold as snow and dull as some kind of cloudy lemonade.

But anyway, that's not really important. Why did I just write a paragraph about it? Well, that's a writing technique. It makes it look like you've written more, but what you've actually done is drone on and on and on, before you need to check your notes to see what you're meant to be writing about. See, I did it again. Anyway, after much coaxing, I logged onto the Internet. My wife got me a free e-mail address and showed me some entertaining and interesting websites. She advised me to surf a little first before tackling it hardcore. Internet? Hardcore? No way, it's a computer thing. Yeah, I thought it was dismissible at first. Just a boredom filled addition to the "jetset" style of 21st century life.

Of course I got hooked. I spent more time on the computer than Emily. Emily's my wife. It's always fun to use real names; it's more personal, like one of those mugs you can buy with your name on it. Anyway, I found a website called FriendsReunited. Not sure if you've heard of it. It's really an adult thing I suppose. No, it's not a hardcore pornography website, "adult" can have more than one meaning you know. After setting up my own profile, I looked through my listed schools and university and found two names that immediately caught my eye. Simon Banford and Jane Fletcher. They were my best friends thought my school life. They were good friends, you know. The kind that are always...there, but you're not quite sure why. They went to Hull for university after A Levels, and I stayed behind and worked my way from the bottom. Hey, I met what was soon to be my wife and bought a pretty awesome house. Can't be that bad can it?

Turns out they had married over the years, which was funny to me due to the memories of school: the polite friendliness, my nervous warnings of diseases, it was all good. We never got any diseases thanks to me. It's ironic because they became biological scientists and I went into writing. Okay, it's not that ironic. They were only my age (thirty or so), and I found they were married at twenty three. Quite too young if you ask me, but it's whatever they find "kinky" I suppose. Anyway, I got in touch with Simon over the Internet (wow, it seems like a long time since I was talking about that. I don't like finishing my writing in one go, I like to savour the idea. Or forget it, whichever). Oh yeah, I talked to Simon over the Internet, and by a stroke of genius, it turned out we both lived in the same city. Derby must be the city of...young workers, or something. After we exchanged the usual jibber-jabber, we arranged an evening where Emily and I would go to Simon and Jane's place. That's what I was meant to write about, only you'll see why I droned on.

We got to their place at about six PM. I wore my dark blue jeans (perfect for slacking off), my beige shirt and my favourite brown leather jacket. If my jeans were tight, I could be an American rancher or something. Emily wore this long, black dress that danced around her ankles. She wore a black top to go with the dress, and a transparent, pink scarf that went so well with her little face. My hair was a mess, but Emily's was nicely combed and brushed, and shiny. As much as it may seem, we're not an odd couple. We work perfectly together, we just have different appearances. Appearances don't matter right?

Anyway, back to the evening. Simon answered the door. He was wearing a shirt with a tie, with trousers that looked a little like a cross between your good old casual jeans and a professional businessman, executive type persons trousers. He was now wearing glasses. Jane looked dull. She approached the door behind Simon, and smiled, just like she did. She was wearing jeans and a shirt, covered by a wooly jumper. Geez Jane, it wasn't that cold. They took us inside. It felt as if Emily was nervous, which isn't really like her at all. Dinner was already on. I think it was chilli con carne or something.

We exchanged that jibber-jabber, again. I went into more detail regarding my writing, what it involves, how hard it can be, who I write for, why I write, who likes my writing, how much does it make, what intelligence and skill does it need, how I insert politics into my writing, my writing inspiration, my favourite contemporaries. By the time dinner was ready, everyone was silenced by my presentation, and it continued throughout the meal. We were offered ice cream afterwards, and we all moved into the nicely furbished front room. For some reason, Jane put the fire on. Smart move Jane, my ice cream melted. I nearly asked for a straw, seriously. At least I could still pick all the fruity bits out, I guess.

We sat in that room for a while, feeling the heat, gazing at the wall. Simon and Jane had changed. They weren't the life of the group anymore. Now I was the king. I didn't even want to be the king. The evening was such a bore (thanks to the new king in command I suppose) we all tried to leave early, at about 7:30 PM, by which time I had borrowed a bottle of their wine. They're still exciting in that department then, I guess.

They seemed to want to keep quiet. Maybe they're religious or ethical extremists that want to hang low. Maybe an old lady living next door, who was supposed, be deaf moaned about their lifestyle. Maybe that's why they changed. Why would they change? I don't think I've changed that much. Ask them or something, I don't know. Maybe that's an adult thing too. No, I don't mean pornography.