30/07/2010

Before BB went ‘to see his dad in Wales’, we had a day out.

“Let’s meet at 12 pm.”

OK. But at 12 pm on a weekday? Aren’t you working?

I still turned up anyway. Mostly because I was feeling randy. I don’t know what I was expecting at noon on a weekday, but there he was in his office wear. The only thing missing was his tie. I got in his car, he kissed me and I instantly forgot about what he was wearing. There is a way in which he works his tongue. Belted and ready to go I heard:

“First, I’ve got to meet a work colleague and give him his car keys,”

“Where is he?” I asked, just to be polite. I really didn’t care. I just wanted him to myself and the sooner we got rid of said colleague the better. He mentioned a town 47  miles away. My heart sunk in disappointment and slight apprehension. Why did I have the feeling that this was going to be like the other ‘car breaks’ day? Even worse, it’s started before I could get any sort of action. Still, I figured I had nothing to do so I tried to fake some mild enthusiasm for this ‘road trip’.  He turns the radio up a bit, it starts raining and Kings Of Leon come on. It’s Closer and suddenly all I can think of is Fish.

Perfect car. Perfect weather. Perfect song. Perfect moment. Wrong boy.

He drives along and we are talking about stuff.  Raoul Moat, how many sexual partner’s we’ve had, anal sex, our favourite food and so on. All this time I’m asking myself questions. Does he really live in my town? Why is his colleague so many miles away? What kind of job does he do exactly? Does he even work where he says he does? We get to the town and he tells me he has to hand over the keys to his colleague at a Sainsbury’s store near a certain junction. He reaches for his satnav and I  feel slightly ashamed for getting over myself. Cleary, the guy doesn’t know his way around the town. In fact, we ended up spending 20 minutes looking for this junction. So I start to relax and after finding it he tells me to go somewhere, in a shopping centre or something and wait for him. Eeerm, right…you don’t want your work colleague to see me. There is no shopping centre, only a Next store. He suggests I wait for him there. I do. At this point I’m feeling particularly pathetic. I expected him to take about 10 to 15 minutes. 20 minutes gone, he’s nowhere to be seen. 25 minutes and I’m tremendously pissed off.

30 minutes. You bastard!

He turns up around 2 minutes past the half hour and we walk back to his car.

“If I see anyone I know, just ignore me. I’m supposed to be at work.”

I’m angry now. So, I get in the car and I remain silent for the better part of 10 minutes. He then mentions lunch and we stop at a Harvester pub mostly because he’s ravenous. Me? Not so much but I love Harvester grub so I cheer up a bit. We sit across each other and I look at this man in front of me. What I’m doing here? What is he thinking? While on our way to meet his colleague we stopped somewhere and indulged. A bit of sexy time. So I sit there thinking of how he was calling out my name before and look into his green eyes. He’s asking about my family. Who cooks the most? My dad I say, and then he goes on about loving slowly cooked home roast. I don’t listen. I just look into his green eyes. They are so beautiful.

Is he kind to her? I hope he spends a lot of time with his child. What is he like at home? What was he thinking when he first met me that afternoon? Did he plan it like this?

I mention that I don’t like plain peas. He says he loves peas in whatever form they come. He offers me a leaf of parsley from his plate to spice up my plain peas. We laugh. He starts telling me about his childhood. How they use to steal carrots with other boys. Was he a little boy once? It’s hard to imagine. I finish my food and I go to the toilet, come back and finish the last of the beer he was having, he pays the bill and we are out of there. I’m silent again. Very thoughtful. Half an hour later we are having sex and I’m sweating and holding on for dear life. I’m a screamer. Later, we both have some Fox’s Mints – my mum buys two packets a week – and he tells me his legs feel like jelly.

“You’ve worn me out,” he tells me and chuckles.

“You’ve worn yourself out,” I quip. He laughs and kisses me while doing that thing with his tongue. We part.

As I walk home, I think of Fish and I’m singing in my head…

…You, shimmy shook my bone
Leaving me stranded all in love on my own
What do you think of me
Where am I now? Baby where do I sleep…

02/04/2010

I went out to town today to have lunch and read a book at Costa Coffee. My mum had given me an Easter present in the form of money for a meal out. The previous night I was really stressed and I couldn’t stop thinking about things; life, relationships e.t.c so I had gone to bed with a headache. I have also been experiencing the worst PMS episode ever. It came with terrible and I mean crippling breast pain. I considered going to the GP because I was getting scared but then I got advice from Bupa and NHS online that says this is normal for most women during this time, and that in fact stress makes it worse. Well, it seems I’m in a bottomless pit here. The only way to get out is to wait for the period to be over and try to control my stress levels.

Anyway.

So today, determined to feel good I got out of the house and got the bus. I normally get a discount because I have a student’s card but today I was told, counts as a bank holiday and students have to pay the normal fee. I had £40 in my purse. Having no more than the £1 coin I had expected to use, I whipped out a crisp £10 note and handed it to the driver. This driver by the way was an hour late! Yes, an hour late, operating on the Sunday timetable. That means, there was no bus to town for two hours. I stood freezing and mildly rained on at the bus stop for 40 minutes waiting for the bus. Right, with the £10 handed, the driver said he had no change so he gave me a ticket voucher  and a few coins. I grasped the voucher and the coins in my hand, looked at it for a few seconds. I was confused because I could see it seemed less than what I was expecting to get. He thought I’d never seen these credit vouchers, so he started explaining to me what they were. I told him I knew that. I went to sit down, so that I could count properly. I checked what was supposed to be given back to me on the calculator in my phone and turned it out I was right. He gave me less change. I decided to wait for a stop where someone was getting off to ask him about this.

I did. He denied giving me less change. He said he was pretty sure I gave him £5. He insisted. I tried to be calm about it, but I couldn’t so I started raising my voice. He kept saying that wasn’t true. I asked him why did he think that I would lie? Afterall I agreed to pay the huge ‘normal people’ fare. He kept denying it. At this time I was so furious so I turned to everyone on the bus and asked,

“Did anyone see me give him £10?,” they looked at me as if I was speaking in tongues. A woman at the front said she couldn’t know because she just got in after me. The rest kept quiet. I sighed turned to the driver and continued.

“You are not getting away with this. I gave you ten pounds.”

“Well, you have to wait until I clock off at the end of my shift and if I turn up with an extra five-pound note, then you will get it back”

“So, what do I do before then, do I just wait? I want to speak to headquarters and report about this.” I finished.

He told me to sit down and wait for us to get to the end of the route, where he promised we would discuss it. At the end of the route, I waited for everyone to get off and then went to him. He got a complaint form out and filled in my details and my contact number. I was so pissed at this point I was practically shouting at him. Afterwards he said he would leave this at the office and if an extra five pounds turns up then they would know its mine and call me and I would get it back. I said how could I be sure this would happen. He said to call the customer service number on the timetable outside the bus and tell them  about the incidence and that he took my details. I got out of the bus, promptly took the number on the timetable and called. The main countrywide office was open but the regional one was closed. I decided to save this number. I’m going to try calling tomorrow because I see they open on Saturdays, if not then it has to be Tuesday. I walked down to the high street and I couldn’t help it but start crying. I was so overwhelmed, so I decided to sit down on one of the town centre benches to catch my breath. Here I was, trying to feel good and then this. What a downer on my moods. I also started saving £10 a week since last month, so this has set me back. Why is it that I want to do something to change my life, or really to just change a single day in my life and something like this has to happen? What exactly did I do wrong? You would expect, it being Good Friday and all that goodwill would fall upon all mankind, no matter how undeserving, being that Jesus died today to save all men e.t.c. Or do I have to wait for the resurrection day on Easter Sunday for things to be extra fine for me?

I did learn something about myself today though: I’m very feisty. I’m sure those people on the bus didn’t expect a little looking girl like me to kick up such a fuss. I think that’s my strong point. And I promise you, if he hadn’t been so civilised as to tell me to wait to get to the end of the route to take my details I would’ve thrown a bloody tantrum and wrecked havoc in that fucking bus. I will not take bullshit from anyone, especially since I put with so much crap in my personal life. So, instead of a meal out, I went for a hot chocolate at Costa, tried to read, I couldn’t. I was just feeling awful. After the hot chocolate,  I went to get some ingredients for pancakes and a bottle of vodka, which I’m downing right now as I type this. What a lovely day that was, eh?

Despite all the nastiness I get in my life, I always try to find something good,even if it’s really insignificant, so today the highlight of this crappy day was the skin head I saw while waiting for the bus. He looked like he was fresh out of This Is England. He had a clean-shaven head, red combat-like boots, jeans rolled up to the near the knees, and red suspender like belts hanging from his waist. He bought a  sandwich from a shop, got out and started eating it while throwing out the tomatoes on the road. he didn’t have a care in the world and looked like he could do some mean things to someone but then juxtaposed with this is the fact that he also looked so handsome and harmless. I couldn’t stop looking at him. I could see beneath the tough guy surface that this guy had the potential to be really nice. I concluded that he must be rather ignorant and set in his ways. I thought if maybe he hanged out with a  different crowd and probably went to university e.t.c, he would now be cruising right past me in his expensive car while I stood there waiting for the bus. I smiled.