Car Parks
I met up with Adam lastnight, a good friend of Karl, the lad/man I did ‘lunch’ with about a month ago. It was all a bit hush hush because neither he nor I wanted Karl to find out we’d met up. Well… I didn’t really want ANYONE to know we’d met up but I just went with the Karl thing… He picked me up after I’d finished work at the studio. He took me to McDonalds for a McFlurry, and then to a very romantic badly-lit car park to “have a chat”.
I knew he was a sarcastic and very dry humoured person, like all the time, but I liked it because he made me laugh. But there were times when I didn’t know if he was being serious or not. I’d be there laughing my arse off about something he’d just said, then I’d look up and he’d have a proper serious face on. I’d apologise, feeling really bad, and then he’d smile and say he was only joking. I knew after a couple of times of this happening that I should take pretty much everything he said and did with a pinch of salt.
He was a decent kisser, a ‘face-holder’ as I like to call them. He put the moves on me pretty much as soon as we parked up and I’d finished stuffing my face with the McLoveliness. Bit of chair reclining, bit of over/and a bit under the clothes action, then he was ‘done’. After some what of a clean-up kafuffle, he started saying things like “You can’t tell anyone about this, ‘cos if Pearce (Karl’s surname) finds out about this, he’ll kill me”. I was like “He won’t kill you. And I’m not planning on telling anyone anyway”. His mood turned to a more aggressive one and he replied with “Well he best not find out so make sure you just keep your fucking mouth shut”.
I was a little bit stunned to be honest, didn’t know if he was joking or being genuine. I asked him if he had actually just spoken to me like that or if he was messing around, and he started making out like it was me with the issue and didn’t know why I was making a big deal out of it. I told him to take me home. I wasn’t scared being there with him or anything, I didn’t feel threatened, I just didn’t want to be around him after he’d spoken to me like that. On the drive home he apologised and said he didn’t mean for it to come across as aggressive and that he was only joking, but then he carried on being a dick. I wasn’t laughing this time though. He’d clearly had some kind of post-come emotional breakdown or something. I’d never seen anyone switch so fast. And if he was genuinely concerned about hurting his friends feelings, who apparently “liked me a lot”, then why did he meet up with me in the first place. It was his effort, not mine…
Fuck me, why the hell was I still attracted to him after that?? I got out of the car thinking “I should have given him a kiss goodnight”… I think I have serious issues. He rang me when he got in but I didn’t have a lot to say so the conversation was cut short and I went to bed. Not spoken to him since. Yet another crazy one to put on the Nejjy pull-list. I’m actually quite a decent person, why do I attract such weirdo’s??
Lunch
Even though the weekend was a long, over-eventful one which had completely knackered me out, I still managed to walk away with some new Facebook Friends… Just out of interest, what’s the deal with Facebook completely taking over almost everybody’s social life. Nobody seems to exchange mobile numbers anymore, they all just seem to swap Surnames!…One of the new ‘Friends’ I picked up was one of Steve’s mates from Saturday night. A 30-something year old post-graduate who had studied Nutrition at University. But who really gives a fuck about that; he was tall, buff, had a shaved head, and a good dress sense to boot. All positives. The negative came quite abruptly quite early on Saturday night. He was ‘between jobs’ and when the time came where I was finishing the large Malibu and Coke I had got for free off some old pervert who took a liking to me and my backless dress (another story), the instant offer of “Would you like another drink?” did not come. I mean… Come on… I was severely overly-fluttering my eyelashes off, and he was reciprocating the flirt… so where in God’s name was my drink??
The drink never came. But I still fancied him.
How come I always feel attracted to the one’s that would end up being no good for me? My past boyfriends mainly had no decent job prospects, very little cash, and a high conflict of interests with me. I obviously haven’t learnt any lessons there, because from the events of Saturday night, I was drawn to him. The Facebook foundations were set.
Friend Request accepted. Flirty messages sent. Flirty messages received. Number given. Phone call received. Date set. Lunch arranged for Tuesday… Tuesday came. So did he and so did I.
Socialites?
As a spur of the moment idea, me and the wife decided to get ourselves all dressed up and go out into Manchester for the night. My network of flirt buddies had let me down, and as a refreshing change, plans were arranged through Emma’s network of lustiness.
No matter how much I do love going out in Burnley (God – that sounds quite sad saying it outloud – haha), it is what I like to think of as a safe-hold for me and the wife. It’s cheap and it’s close to home, but the same people go, we all drink the same drinks, and we all do the same things week in, week out. I think every now and again you need to pull yourself out of your safe routine and do something a little bit bigger and better.
Last night we met up with Steve, a friend of Emma’s sisters boyfriend(!), in the Living Room. His mates were all hot, and the girl out with them, Chrissie, was a lovely blogger/socalite from LA/Yorkshire. Big fake hair, nails, tits and tan; I loved her instantly. Shockingly, this group weren’t like the frequenters of Lava-Ignite, Burnley, and I think that’s what I liked about them the most.
A job as a socialite? How much fun would that actually be? A person who makes their living going out to fancy places with fancy people, entertaining and being entertained all the time? Fuck it… I would love that. I would buy myself some massive new boobs and get some botox in the ‘perma-scar’ frown line i seem to have adopted from my ‘hard hard life’… Yes. I think I could cope with that sort of thing.
What a shame I’m far too content with my ‘simple’ Lancashire life! Xx
