"I don't know why we do this every Sunday..." grumbled Charlie, being buffeted by crowds of people pushing past.
"Because we live in London..." shrugged Marc. "This is what we do. Every Sunday is flower market day. Suck it up."
"I can't afford to eat, let alone buy flowers..." sulked Charlie.
"I'm buying flowers..." said Marc. "You're just here to help carry them."
"Exactly!" exclaimed Charlie. "I don't like crowds, I can't afford flowers, and my friend is just using me as a gofer."
"I prefer the term Executive Assistant..." smiled Marc.
"Fuck off..." frowned Charlie. "I think I'll just go home."
"I'll buy you a coffee and a saffron bun from the bakery?" offered Marc.
"You're bribing me with coffee and luxury bakery items?" scoffed Charlie. "Fine. What sort of flowers are we looking for."
"Is he still with the husband?" asked Charlie.
"No, they've separated..." replied Marc. "I guess they're divorced by now."
"Didn't he convert?" said Charlie. "I'm sure I remember him going to Hebrew lessons or something so he convert before the wedding."
"Definitely..." nodded Marc. "I remember him saying that the hardest thing was giving up bacon."
"What about the circumcision?" laughed Charlie. "What happens with that? Do they just sew the foreskin back on?"
"I remember asking him about that..." grinned Marc. "It wasn't an issue as he was already circumcised."
"I think that would be a deal-breaker for me..." decided Charlie. "If getting married to a guy meant that I had to get circumcised, I think I'd call it off and give him the Ariana Grande."
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