I’m Half Full
I’m starting to feel a lot more positive about my current situation. Not feeling as low or as sorry for myself after the weekend, and I apologise for going off on such a depressing tangent last Friday, but I won’t ever edit or delete that post – no matter how irrational I was being. This blog helps me vent and eventually sort my headin more ways than I thought it could.
With regards to my injury and the studio, I’ve just got to keep being positive I suppose. Although it is hard, when all I want to be doing is training my arse off for the comps. To throw two brililant sayings together though, time is a great healer, and patience is a virtue. Says it all really doesn’t it.
On the GL front (or not, haha), all should be done with now. He saw me talking to one of the directors from work on Friday when I was upset, shit himself and then rang me at lunch. He was checking I was ok, aka covering his own arse. I told him I want nothing else to do with him, and that I wanted to walk away from the situation with what little dignity as I have left. He apologised, saying it wasn’t his intention to make me feel bad about myself. Fuck you, you silly cunt.
I am so looking forward to Zante now… I am feeling nothing but positive things about it. I cannot wait to get out of this shitty country and be with a lad who I actually want to spend some time with for a change. Spoke to Matt quite a lot over the last few days; He’s got Thursday, Friday and Sunday off work, and we’re getting a jeep on Friday so we can go bossing off around the island seeing the sights over the weekend too. Should be lovely.
A good friend of mine described what I was feeling as a ‘love vacuum stress’. She said I needed to curb the drinking and have some proper ‘take care of yourself’ time. This ‘good friend’ has only been a friend of mine for a matter of months. She was there to give out well-received advice when I needed it the most, and no matter what my troubles are, she is always there to tell me what needs to be told and her words will always be taken on board. You know who you are, so thank you, and thanks to everyone else who supports me and gives a fuck, even if it is only slightly, it means a lot.
Love you all Xx
Boys with Girls.
The wife has been in contact with a lad she used to go to Primary School with quite recently. Now… this lad has a girlfriend, and he knows that Emma knows this. And yet over the past week he has continued to bombard her with overly-nice and flirty text messages. If she doesn’t reply within a 5-10 minutes, he’ll send a follow up text “Is everything ok?” or “Oi, you not talking to me?” Does he literally spend no time with his woman? And why put so much effort in when it’s clearly never going to get anywhere??
In situations like this, I would never say that she is in the wrong for replying to his messages or even for flirting with him. At the end of the day, he is the one who has chosen to be commited to somebody else, whether or not he keeps his word on that is not my wife’s problem.
Having never been cheated on, I don’t know the feeling of having somebody go behind your back. And because of this I find it unreasonable for the women in this situation to hate the women their men are cheating with. The men were the one’s who promised to be faithful… But to us, all’s fair in love and war.
I’ve had a couple of ‘Takens’ on the cards since the Break Up. But the point is, that these men are a lot more attractive to us because the likelihood of having to actually do anything we say to them is very small. Still, it makes me wonder why they bother doing it in the first place. And should we feel bad for playing along with them even though they have another woman on the sideline?
Dan started talking to me on Facebook a couple of months ago. We casually chatted about how we would make a bang-bus movie together (direct, not star in), the size of our porn collections, and the like. He had introduced me to his missus once when we were out about a year ago, and I knew (from what he’d told me) that they were living together and had been together a few years… The Facebook chatting turned into texting. He’d text me when he was at work (obviously when she wasn’t anywhere near) discussing what outfit I was wearing and whether or not i was bending over a desk. He started to tell me how much he liked me… Instant bad sign. I told him I liked him too but that this was just fun, he had a girlfriend who he was happy with, and there was no point in ruining that. I didn’t want to go out with him, it was all just a bit of fun. The texts became more frequent during the evenings and weekends, until one night he rang me up saying she’d been through his phone and that he was really in the shit. I had no sympathy. Like I said, if they chose to break their word, that’s their business. If it wouldn’t have been me, it would have been somebody else.
But is the thrill of the chase actually more exciting than the catch? And not just for lads, for girls too…
There’s a lad who I’m currently half-bedding. Meaning, the opportunity is there, I’ve just not decided whether or not I want to take it. I completely made all the effort to begin with. He’s younger than me, and one of Emma’s mates so it wasn’t instantly set up to be a pull. After I had put forward my flirty efforts with military precision, I have truly bagged him, but now he want’s it, I’ve gone off the idea. I’m such a lad.
End of.
Drinking commenced at 5pm on Friday. I started strong and was getting through them quickly, and was soon on my way to becoming the biggest disgrace I had been in a long time. Happy days. Starting on double Malibu and coke’s, I moved to red wine and coke for the meal, had a few shots throughout the night, and I finished on vodka. (The ‘Company Credit Card’ paid for the majority of the drinks so I had a race against myself to see who could drink the most).
It was actually really nice getting to know the girls from the office – and by getting to know I mean drinking copious amounts of alcohol with a talking shit to each other about work and men… I kept my distance from GL for most of the evening, I had already said to myself that it wasn’t my aim to follow him around all night, and in hindsight I’m so glad I didn’t. His time was mainly consumed with buying shit-loads of champagne for some random girl from accounts, and going off to the toilet every 5 minutes to do Coke. I had a few interactions with him throughout the night. The first was when I took a cigarette out of his pocket without asking (because I had run out). He didn’t seem to mind me furtiling around in his front pocket too much to be fair… A while later he asked if me and him could go for a chat, I said “What? Now?” as I had just got myself a drink. He turned around and looked at the accounts bird, then looked back at me, “Give me half an hour?” I walked off… Then an hour or so after that he came upto me and asked if I was “ready for off then”. I told him that I hadn’t spoken to him all night – so no. The accounts girl knocked him back that night too, so he went off to Manchester on his own at about 2am to wank himself to sleep no doubt, or pay someone else to do it for him.
As my night became blurrier and we moved from place to place, I tried to shimmy up a lamp-post, did the splits on top of an umbrella which was in the middle of the dance floor in Barracuda (don’t ask), took photos of one of my work colleague pretending to bumfuck another colleague who was being sick by a pillar outside The Bar, and had several in depth chats with my boss – some of which I can never repeat again, and which has made the office uber-weird to work in now… I met a girl called Jen who was mates with one of the girls from work. She loved dancing with a dirty face on all the time and loved swooshing her dress up and showing her arse every time she span around. I knew who my dancing partner was instantly! At least two hours of my evening were consumed with having filth off’s with her on the dance floor, and with us escorting each other to the toilets so we could snort her Coke using my house key. What is it they say?… If you can’t beat them, join them. Well, I joined.
In a blurry haze I wandered outside and scabbed a fag off a lovely looking boy called Benjamin. He was off to Brazil the next morning to travel for a year – haha. Would you believe it?? Another one!… Don’t even get me bloody started. I gave him a little smooch as a thank you for the cig, arranged to meet him in J2 later, and stumbled back in side the bar. I didn’t meet him… When you have to have a word with yourself in a toilet cubicle, you know you’ve had more than enough. I got a taxi home, and am very proud to say that it was the only thing I paid for that night.
Obviously not feeling as if I had completely embarrassed myself, I text Corbett and asked if I could stop at his. I’d been texting him throughout the night anyway, with him telling me to “Stay away from the sleaze”, and I wasn’t meant to be stopping at home that night, so it seemed like a brilliant idea… He didn’t reply. With my plans of drunken harassment foiled, I went home, got undressed and got into bed only to receive a phone call off Corbett telling me he’d only just got my messages and that I could go to his if I wanted to. After quickly considering turning up to his in nothing but a flasher mac and some stockings and heels, I quickly decided it was not the best idea. We chatted for an hour about our nights (which I don’t really remember at all), and I’m pretty sure I fell asleep while he was talking to me at some point too.
The next morning, I had to get booked in to see the doctor because my throat felt like it was closing up completely. I just thought I was coming down and had a hangover… Apparently I have a “quite severe” throat and ear infection, and am currently on high dosage anti-biotics for the week. Hahaha. Love it.
Revelations
For the past week, GL had been full on with the texting and phone calls (everything but physical contact). We’ve got a staff ‘do’ on Friday night. He told me he had a suite booked at the Hilton in Manchester, and he wondered if I’d like to go back there with him after the meal and a few drinks. I agreed. Part of me believed that even if I accepted his offer, it still probably wouldn’t happen. Much like the dozens or so other times he’d arranged to meet up with me and then had to cancel last minute. My initial objective of the night would be to stay out with the girls from work and get mashed up, and if anything looked like it was going to happen with GL, I’d meet him at the Hilton afterwards. That way my night wouldn’t have to revolve around relying on him.
He had been texting me last Thursday afternoon and evening while he was in London at a meeting. Telling me he was looking forward to Friday so much, and telling me what he was planning on doing with me. Sat in the pub, half tipsy with half a dozen of my friends having the banter, I wasn’t really in a position to start filthy texting him back, so when he said it was my turn and I declined, he reverted to the old “Just think, you came that close, and you’ve just missed your chance” nonsense… I reminded him he’d already used a similar line the week before and said I’d see him at work the next day.
**Potential Porno Plot** The following day, I was wearing my uber-tight grey pencil skirt, black heels, and white shirt which always has one too many buttons undone at the front, completely taking away it’s ‘appropriate for work wear’ factor (ahh well)… Bending forward over him desk to place down his coffee in front of him (strong, white, no sugar, and with a good dose of my saliva thrown in for good measure), he leant back in his chair looking me up and down and started with the flirting…
“Oh, thank you sweetheart. What would I do without you eh? You’re so good to me…”
“I know” I said… “And to think I came that close, and that I’ve had my last chance now… Such a shame eh.” He had a massive grin on his face, I flashed him a smile (although it felt more appropriate to flash my boobs the amount of sexual tension that was in the room) and I turned around to leave.
“You’ll never be on your last chance with me” he replied… Queue the porn music (bada-ba-bada-bowwww). He stood up and shut the door in front of me. Facing him he pressed me up against the wall and slowly moved his hand up my…. Ok, Ok… So that last bit didn’t happen. But it bloody should have done!
He rang me up on Saturday, checking I’d had a good week at work, how I was liking the promotion, and what I was upto over the weekend. Just a casual chat like a friend would have with another friend… weird. He asked if I would meet him on Sunday. I’ve known since May that he’s had a girlfriend, he said he could get away for a couple of hours to see me for a late lunch. Cutting it short, he cancelled that morning, saying that her Dad has got cancer and they were going to see him and he couldn’t get out of it. I didn’t reply. He text me again later saying how pissed off he was because he really wanted to see me but that he had to do the right thing… Hang on… For someone who’d only had this bird since May-ish, going on ‘cancer visits’ seemed a bit full on? There was obviously a lot more to this relationship than he ever let on.
I spoke to him on Tuesday night, and dragged as much info out of him as he was going to give me. He’d had this girlfriend for almost a year (meaning he’d lied to me when we first started talking), but he said it wasn’t working out. She kept sussing him when he was texting or calling me and she kept looking through his phone. He said that if he’s wanting to do stuff with me so much, it obviously wasn’t right with them, and that it would be finishing soon. You’d think that I’d be over the moon about this kind of talk but I really didn’t like it. The guilt started kicking in and I felt so shitty on her (even thought I didn’t even know the woman). Did he not give a shit that her dad had cancer? Was he just going to be using me as an excuse to leave her? Was he even going to leave her or was he just saying that to make me feel better about the situation??… Because it didn’t! I started to question the whole Friday night arrangement; even the slim chance of it actually happening worried me.
Yesterday at work, one of the girls got a disciplinary for skiving a day off work. She thought she was going to get fired, so in her ‘glory of leaving’ she decided to tell the entire office about the staff that GL had shagged. There was a few. Fair do’s, some were good looking girls, but some… Words do not describe the logic there. I text him when I got home lastnight. “Delete my number now. I don’t want anything to do with you at all. Good riddance.”
He’s already text me twice today.
Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?
After a very recent argument with the wife, and after recieving a similar themed comment on one of my blogs (Car Parks), the weekend had me in a rather reflective mood. Although my shenanigans whilst out on Friday and Saturday continued as normal, looking back at my past, present and future, I can’t help but ponder over their justifications for saying the things they have to/about me.
A long time ago, when I didn’t have the balls to end a relationship which was rutted and doomed, I developed a sort of defense mechanism to protect myself against it. At the start of the relationship I was young, immature and obsessed. I would have done anything he asked and I honestly thought I was in love with him. He controlled every aspect of my life, my friends, family, work… This was all up until the night where he thought he was within his right to slap me round the face because I’d suggested going out with my mates… My priorities moved quickly from pleasing him to pleasing myself, and nobody else. The defense mechanism I used was one where I lied to him and cheated on him. I kissed other lads on nights out, or I’d tell him I was at home or at school when I was round at someone else’s house. Sex wasn’t a massive part of it, although it was present. It was more about the deceit for me, and I got a kick out of doing something I knew he would hate.
At that time, I never got any other gratification from it all apart from the spite factor. I never came out of it feeling better about myself, I was always depressed. I never felt wanted and I never felt like I was liked by any of the lads I got off with. I ‘used’ them to make a point, although in the end it was me who was being used, I’m well aware of that now. It was because I played it wrong. With the hidden agenda came an over-emotional attachment, so I never had the upper hand. Living and learning has got me through a lot in life. I wasn’t particularly naive back then, but I am definitely a lot more ‘street smart’ and a lot wiser to men and their tricks now-a-days.
To quote : “This guy isn’t only a weirdo, it sounds like he is using you, possibly because you let him (but why? low self esteem? maybe for some kind of bizarre experiment?)”…
Reaction : My blogs may come across as if I’m looking for love, and being knocked back every step along the way, but the truth is actually quite the opposite. I have just been in a relationship for 4 years, which I ended, and before that, I was in one for 2. At the moment, I have no interest in having anything more than something casual. That doesn’t mean I’m having a flurry of one night stands, that means I meet up with them as and when WE both want to and I make sure nothing too serious comes of it. I pursue them as much as they pursue me. And I only feel the need to blog the occasional weirdo or confusing situation… This whole blogging idea would be dull if it documented my ‘nice’ and ‘pleasant’ dates. Zzzzzzz.
To clarify, I really do not have low self esteem. Sometimes I may drop my standards, but that’s because that’s what I want to do. Not because there’s nothing better for me. I know I’m hot. I know I could probably get myself a nice boyfriend who’d be really nice to me, treat me well and wants to settle down, but I just got rid of one of them, and the reason for that was because I wasn’t ready to settle down. As much as it hurt him, I obviously needed to get all this out of my system in one way or another.
To quote : “Have you thought about just kind of fasting from men for 3 months? did me the world of good.”
Response : Each to their own… and no disrespect… But I’m good ta.
This behavior may be another defense mechanism for me, but I’m really happy at the moment. I love the attention. I don’t feel used and I don’t feel like I’m yearning for more from any of them. If they don’t like me, I don’t care… There’s plenty more fish in the sea. If they don’t want to see me, that’s fine… If I don’t keep in touch with them, that’s fine. Some things work out, some don’t… The day I start feeling sad, or like I’m not quite getting what I want out of this arrangement, will be the day I stop.
Until then… Viva la Randoms. Xx
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??
Last Chance
Text conversation between me and GL last Thursday night at about half 11pm.
…
GL : What u upto
Nej : Not a lot, just unpacking. u?
GL : Fancy comin round now !
Nej : Not really. Why, you drunk?
GL : Yep. Come round will pay for taxi.
Nej : I’m good ta.
GL : Come on. We will have fun
Nej : I’m alright for drunken one night stands thanks.
GL : Its not one night. Promise. Take a chance xxx
Nej : No. See you at work.
GL : Wrong choice xx unlucky never again x
Nej : Ha, what a crying shame that is. Looks like we’ve both used up all our chances then.
GL : Come round x
…
I’ve not had any texts since but I get a massive smile and a wink off him eveytime we cross paths in the office. He’s just escorted me into the building with an umbrella and a sly hand around the waist.
Really? Does anyone else understand this man?? Because I really don’t!… Any perspective on this would be great. I am beyond confused.
But I still want to ride in the Bentley.
Friend-Zones and Headfucks
This is a long one I’m afraid. And this is the shortened version. Haha!…
On New Years Eve 2008, I was in a relationship with ‘him’. I’d arranged a house party at mine with him and the Banter Brigade because I cannot stand going out on New Years, it’s ridiculous and shit… The midnight bells came and went, and I noticed ‘he’ had drank a little too much, so I sent him to bed (we’d had issues in the past regarding his drinking, so I didn’t put up with any drunken nonsense). I retired too an hour or so later and as soon as I’d lay down received a text message from Corbett (who was downstairs in my living room) which went along the lines of “He’s a lucky man getting to sleep next you tonight”. I deleted it straight away, passing it off as a drunken one-off. This lad had been my mate for a few years, and that text was never mentioned afterwards – I didn’t really want any complications. Especially with someone I was out with almost every weekend.
When me and ‘him’ were going through our break, I sent a text out to a few of the boys saying “Looks like I’m single now boys. Let’s all get it on. Haha Xx”, and then got one back off Corbett saying “I wish you were being serious”. A conversation ensued where he basically said he liked me a lot but he was worried anything happening would ruin the friendship we had – which I totally understood. And although I didn’t understand why he had told me in the first place, we agreed to leave the issue and carry on just being ‘mates’.
When I was newly single, and therefore acting all footloose and fancy free, every time we were out and I found myself dancing with another lad, I’d notice Corbett standing on the sidelines looking over as if he was about to kick off. I found myself doing it too though, I hated seeing him dancing with other girls. If that situation ever came about I’d just go and girate myself behind him until his attention was diverted then leave him alone… How mature… I really did like him. And the fact I knew he liked me just made it worse, wanting what I couldn’t have. Blah blah blah…
This all carried on for a few weeks and then I met Matt. When we went out on a date one Saturday, the gang all went out to Burnley and I arranged to meet them there afterwards. The story I got from the Wife was that all night Corbett was asking where I was, who I was with, and when I was coming out. Every time Emma got a text, he was asking if I was on my way and what I was doing… When I eventually did arrive, Emma told him she was meeting me at the entrance and he said he would wait at the side for us to get back. However, once we got there (and after a quick trip to the toilets so the Wife could tell me the entire nights events) he was gone… A few minutes later he appeared from nowhere with some peroxide blonde polyester dressed horror of a bird’s hand in his, and giving me a quick wink he led her to the dancefloor where they started getting off with each other and dirty dancing. I went for a fag and sent him a text saying “I’m almost embarrased for you”… I saw him 15mins later, he said he thought I’d ”fucked off home” already, I asked him why I would have and that it should be him going home, and a verbal fight began between us. I clarified that he had done it deliberately, and if he had stuff to say to me, he should be saying it, not playing silly games and ignoring the issue. He shrugged it off.
The tension was always there afterwards, we both just kept our distance until the Thursday night in Burnley where we both got wankered and ended up getting off with eachother outside his house (mentioned in a previous blog entry). And to clarify again, HE initiated that kiss, not me. I gave an innocent enough hug and cheek kiss to which he replyied “Is that all I get then?”… The necking commenced.
Before Mexico it was all hyped up that we were gonna be shagging on holiday because “What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico”. And that was true, but the secrets we shared sadly don’t involve a night of passion. We both pulled other people in front of eachother there and we pulled eachother on a couple of nights too, and it wasn’t even an issue. We were all there to have good time and enjoy ourselves…
When we got our alone time, rather than spending it strapping up and smacking up, we spent it talking about our past, present and future. He made a schoolboy error and told me that he basically wants to be a bastard. That if he likes a girl, he’ll let her know, but as soon as they show any interest, he turns it off and acts a dick with them. He’d been hurt in the past, big time, and admitted outright that he didn’t like failing. If anything serious were to happen with a girl which then messed up, that would be a fail, so he just didn’t want to bother. It wasn’t worth the hassle and the hurt etc etc.
We stayed up until 6am the next morning just talking. In a way he’d made himself more vulnerable, showing me his weak points and telling me his game plan. Walking back to the rooms he said he liked me (again) but that we were mates and that made it weird for him to deal with… then he gave me a good snog and groped me for half an hour in the corridor. We were in separate rooms and both had our mates inside. If there would have been somewhere to go we would have slept together that night. It genuinely felt like the perfect time to do it because we’d already shared so much…. I just sound gay now. Haha.
Coming back home and back to reality, we now have had no resolution to this issue. 6 months on and there’s been no getting it out of our system and moving on with a clear head. The tension and feelings are most definitely still there; both positive and negative ones. And the games are being played from both sides more than ever. However… I’ve decided to keep my distance now. He told my Wife how fit she was on Friday night after we got back from Mexico, and how everyone liked her. Then he made out like all he’d ever wanted to do was be my friend and that I kept on pushing the issue with him to make it more. I know his game, but my other mates don’t. And I don’t want to be made out to be some desperate mug who is following him around like a lost puppy. We’ll just have to see what comes of this one I think. But I just want this over and done with to be honest.
Why must boys play games with us? And why do I love to play along?
Too Much.
I’ve always been a very black and white kind of person, I’ve always said it how it is. I see it pointless speaking to people I don’t actually want to speak to and going out and playing Happy Families with every other cunt, even if I don’t actually like them in the slightest. If I talk to you, it’s because I like you, or because I want something from you… Simples *makes meer cat noise*.
My method of dealing with men at the moment is also very black and white. I tell them I’ve just got out of a four year relationship, and that I’m not planning on getting back into one anytime soon, so if they have a problem with that, just don’t take me out. However, since this new found approach has been used, I seem to have aquired a back-log of over needy, attention wanting boys/men… Is it because of the whole, wanting what you can’t have thing? Because I thought only girls got that… I’ve since received numerous Facebook messages or texts, not declaring love, but declaring a little too much attachment than I’d have liked to hear. No, I do not want to hear how beautiful I am and what a great personality I have. And no, I do not feel the same.
This sort of behaviour has only ever had an effect on me once since the split, and that was with Matt. And I’m pretty sure that was just because it was the rebound and I was not in full control of my feelings and therefore unable to hold them back… *the stone-hearted bitch steps down from her soapbox* haha. I’ve made my excuse for that one now… So I’ll move on.
To put a similar situation forward which is the other way around, I have a ‘relationship’ with one of the company directors at work. This relationship basically consists of him bombarding me with offers of trips to London, Premiership football games, and expensive meals out, for a few weeks/months while I constantly reel off the ” I have to work at the studio”, “I’m too tired” and “I’ve already have plans”… I’m not sure what it is… I don’t think it’s the age gap, or the fact he may have “old balls” as my Wifey so nicely puts it. There’s just a part of me that, even though he’s hot, rich and extremely powerful (in a kind of Gordon Rasey domination way… mmmm), I would have to walk around that office afterwards thinking “He has seen my fanny”…
Whenever the time comes where I think fuck it, I might as well take him up on one of these offers, all of a sudden he’s “got the kids for the weekend”, “the boys are coming round” or he “has a meeting”… On a Sunday… Really?? Up until quite recently I honestly believed that at some point he would take me out and that stuff might have happened, but I’ve most realistically come to terms with that fact that he is in fact just a massive fanny tease and loves the chase, and the chase alone. Yea… we’ll see which tease wins this war then shall we, while I’m sauntering around the office in my tight skirt and a pencil in my mouth, bending over to check the paper tray in the photocopier.
Seems that I’m doing the same thing as the over needy, attention wanting boys/men i mentioned previously, and regardless of the vicious circle I find myself in with this man. I can’t help but keep repeating the same pattern every few weeks with him. No, no, no, yes?… Oh, no.
I would ruin him anyway, he’s older than me and most probably has little to no stamina.
End of.
Messy.
Thursday evening : Text message received from Corbett – “Fancy Burnley tonight bud? X”
I was already dressed, made up, and straightening my hair. I had already made the decision that, even if the Banter Boys bailed on me, I’d find some ‘partial’ to tag along with for the night. I wanted to get wankered. We made a plan to meet at the pub at half 8… There were a few others who met us there for a pint, but they were all working the next day so drove home afterwards. The sambuka shots started there for me and Corbett.
The wife wasn’t on it, she was out on a ‘sex date’ but I presumed she’d be meeting up with us afterwards. I presumed this because we both share the same theory that sex shouldn’t be long and drawn out like the type most people seem to go on about… Like the one’s who say “I can go for hours”… Why the hell would I want it to last hours?? Just get it done! To clarify, it’s not like I don’t enjoy it, but sex should be like an explosion, like a big bang (so to speak), and after hours and hours it just gets sore and uncomfortable.
I somehow managed to enroll Dunny into the night which was a rarity because when we usually go out, he’s working on the doors. Tonight, however, was a Thursday… All bets were off.
Sat in Wetherspoons in Burnley, I’d approximate that me and Corbett had half a dozen shots, and 3-4 drinks in the space of an hour and a half. I remember feeling alright until the wife walked in, then as my excitement got the better of me, I seemed to have moved myself into an ‘uncontrollable drunk’.
From there the night was a blur of general abuse towards my sober Wife, some admittedly shameless flirting with all and sundry, the pulling of a practical minor (haha), chatting up some woman so that I could scab a fag off her outside Isabar, being sick on three separate occasions, and busting some fantastically large moves on a half empty dance floor. Apologies to all. And to top the night off, I also ended up getting off with Corbett, who is one of my very good mates, after having to drop him to his door due to his incapability to walk alone without dropping to the ground and falling asleep. “Fuck it, we’re both pissed”… Messy. But I’d do it all again.
