“The Boy” Situation, where do I begin without sounding too neurotic?
Eight years ago I met a guy online, we met, we hit it off, we got it on, well sort of. It was a bit intense, to say the least, within two weeks I moved in, or rather, I gradually left items of clothing at his house, I do not believe there was any memorial ceremony in which “The Boy” actually asked me to stay, it just felt comfortable.
Eight years later we are still comfortable, we broke up for six months but couldn’t be apart from each other. There has only been one continual problem throughout our relationship. Sex. We’ve cuddled we’ve done, things, however, subject to one thing or another; we haven’t actually got down to doing the nasty.
Now I know what you’re thinking, yes, you are probably right, how on earth have you spent eight years with someone without actually getting down to it.
One simple answer, he is not actually attracted to the female of the species when it comes to the bedroom department.
Call it what you will, call him what you will, I still love him, he still loves me. I think of us in terms of the great comedy duo’s: Laurel and Hardy, Morecambe and Wise, Bert and Ernie. The truth is we are companions, it suits us. He has his cover; I have the home of my dreams. The crunch comes, the on that tragic day, what happens if either one of us falls in love with someone else.
“The Boy” will be mentioned from time to time throughout the Blog, however, whatever he is; and he is many things, he is and will always remain a constant in my life. I do not judge him, his actions or his funny ways, I appreciate validate and am grateful for the impact he has made in my life.
If I could only find someone who could fill “The Boy’s” shoes and feed the desire which burns inside every thirtysomething’s girls knickers.
“The Boy” Situation
Sigh
x
Monday, 3 November 2008
A Memorable Night in a Cocktail Bar Part 3:
So that’s what happened was it? I did wonder, as I had my time taken up freezing my hiny off and listening to the droll of the guy leering across the bar at us. From my perspective the events, of that part of the evening, continued thus:
It was true, I did ask the leering guy over, but to be honest, he did deserve it. The man in question had spent most of the evening clocking us, smiling and circling the vicinity, much the same way a rotating vulture observes a lame mammal. His appearance was formal, stoutly, although I have to admit he carried it well and he maintained an air of assured self gratification, in a way to which you could not help find amusing.
I guess it was the stare that unnerved, not only my fellow companions but a young couple who were stood aside from him. By the time we had assumed our positions at the bar, his face, rouged from champagne, was almost at bursting point from anticipated pleasure. Grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, his eyes remained half open. At this point he began to gently rock backwards and forwards like a child comforting itself with a security blanket.
The couple, stood to my left, were very uncomfortable in his presence. She caught my eye looked over at the leering man, looked down, then back at me. Her partner, becoming one of an increasingly anxious state, commented on said leering mans behaviour, as being one of a rather perverse creature. I nodded, smiled, then to the horror of all stood around me, challenged the leering gentleman, in quite an over confident manner, to sit by me. I actually believe the dialog of the command was more in the tone of:
GG1: Excuse me Honey, rather than standing around staring at us all evening, which of course you have been, why don’t come over here and chat to us.
(To which all Jaws, including that of the couple standing to my left, dropped to floor as if all characters in a Tex Avery Short.)
GG1: We are nice girls and happy to chat to you.
LM: Good evening ladies.
(He spoke with a feeling of great, often malicious, pleasure or self-satisfaction to which I can only liken to a Dickensian Beagle.)
LM: Could I offer your good selves a drink?
In as much as GG2 has relayed the evenings events from the slightly tipsy, moving rather rapidly to plastered angle, engaging the in the amusement of a cocktail waiter is not really my cup of tea. It is fair to say however, that I did, in fact ask for a pot of tea, of which, I was eternally grateful, if not just for the duration of the evening.
If only I were cold, that would have been tolerable, the effects of the air conditioning unit were increasingly chilling not only my skin, but the actual joints in my fingers began to ache. I did point out to the maitre d, on more than one occasion to turn the heating up. Being a gentleman he did take a turn to my side, explaining that if one was to sit underneath an air conditioning filter, one would experience a little discomfort, at sooner or later. Smug bastard, if I wanted to wear a fur coat I would have gone to the Ice Bar. However, I was in Harvey Nicks wine bar, I was sitting next to a gentleman who the others did not find appealing and he was, for all intense and purposes enlightening me on the delights of his occupation and previous existence. As you have to assume otherwise, I happen to have the concentration span of a gnat and spend far to long in my own universe than to one that I am suppose to share with the rest of the world.
GG1: I’m sorry?
LM: I said I find you very attractive, and I asked what brings you out this evening
I then inform the gentleman of the objective: Thursday night is Ladies Night, we make the most meeting gentlemen and engaging in their company, this coupled with inviting a few guys from some dating sites, makes for an interesting evening.
LM: So you are single?
Cringe!
GG1: No I am not, well, I mean to say I live with “The Boy”, but it is not your usual relationship.
LM: So you have an open relationship.
Relaying “The Boy” situation is not my favourite of occupations, the sooner it is out the open, the easier it is for me to relax and enjoy myself.*
It was true, I did ask the leering guy over, but to be honest, he did deserve it. The man in question had spent most of the evening clocking us, smiling and circling the vicinity, much the same way a rotating vulture observes a lame mammal. His appearance was formal, stoutly, although I have to admit he carried it well and he maintained an air of assured self gratification, in a way to which you could not help find amusing.
I guess it was the stare that unnerved, not only my fellow companions but a young couple who were stood aside from him. By the time we had assumed our positions at the bar, his face, rouged from champagne, was almost at bursting point from anticipated pleasure. Grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat, his eyes remained half open. At this point he began to gently rock backwards and forwards like a child comforting itself with a security blanket.
The couple, stood to my left, were very uncomfortable in his presence. She caught my eye looked over at the leering man, looked down, then back at me. Her partner, becoming one of an increasingly anxious state, commented on said leering mans behaviour, as being one of a rather perverse creature. I nodded, smiled, then to the horror of all stood around me, challenged the leering gentleman, in quite an over confident manner, to sit by me. I actually believe the dialog of the command was more in the tone of:
GG1: Excuse me Honey, rather than standing around staring at us all evening, which of course you have been, why don’t come over here and chat to us.
(To which all Jaws, including that of the couple standing to my left, dropped to floor as if all characters in a Tex Avery Short.)
GG1: We are nice girls and happy to chat to you.
LM: Good evening ladies.
(He spoke with a feeling of great, often malicious, pleasure or self-satisfaction to which I can only liken to a Dickensian Beagle.)
LM: Could I offer your good selves a drink?
In as much as GG2 has relayed the evenings events from the slightly tipsy, moving rather rapidly to plastered angle, engaging the in the amusement of a cocktail waiter is not really my cup of tea. It is fair to say however, that I did, in fact ask for a pot of tea, of which, I was eternally grateful, if not just for the duration of the evening.
If only I were cold, that would have been tolerable, the effects of the air conditioning unit were increasingly chilling not only my skin, but the actual joints in my fingers began to ache. I did point out to the maitre d, on more than one occasion to turn the heating up. Being a gentleman he did take a turn to my side, explaining that if one was to sit underneath an air conditioning filter, one would experience a little discomfort, at sooner or later. Smug bastard, if I wanted to wear a fur coat I would have gone to the Ice Bar. However, I was in Harvey Nicks wine bar, I was sitting next to a gentleman who the others did not find appealing and he was, for all intense and purposes enlightening me on the delights of his occupation and previous existence. As you have to assume otherwise, I happen to have the concentration span of a gnat and spend far to long in my own universe than to one that I am suppose to share with the rest of the world.
GG1: I’m sorry?
LM: I said I find you very attractive, and I asked what brings you out this evening
I then inform the gentleman of the objective: Thursday night is Ladies Night, we make the most meeting gentlemen and engaging in their company, this coupled with inviting a few guys from some dating sites, makes for an interesting evening.
LM: So you are single?
Cringe!
GG1: No I am not, well, I mean to say I live with “The Boy”, but it is not your usual relationship.
LM: So you have an open relationship.
Relaying “The Boy” situation is not my favourite of occupations, the sooner it is out the open, the easier it is for me to relax and enjoy myself.*
Sunday, 5 October 2008
A Memorable Night in a Cocktail Bar Part 2
cont:
just to bring you up to date, it's Sunday evening and poor GG1 is dying in her sick bed with a terrible chest so I will continue the story....
Indeed 2 & half cocktails later and GG2 is grimacing like a monkey and finding everything amusing in her usual fashion. Blondie is definitely finding the men more attractive, there is that strange glint in her eyes. Oh my gosh and the hoover just sucked up another £15 cocktail and I swear her lips did not touch the straw.
GG2's confidence is now bursting at the seams and suddenly notices the waiter shaking his cocktail shaker at her
GG2: my you certainly know how to shake that thing with your right hand, I bet you have big muscles?
The waiter could hardly contain his smile.
GG2: I could be a cocktail waitress. I want to be one of those, I could do that (ok so I was a little too enthusiastic - a combination of several different cocktails and you can take on the world - plus he was damn cute)
GG1: Oh god! she is off again, flirting with the waiter
In the meantime, to our left was a strange man staring (or dare I say leering) at us just a few feet away.
GG2; Look, omg that guy is leering at us, don't look (too late all four girls were now staring him straight in the face)
GG1: (to strange leering man!) What are you looking at? Come over here if you want to chat to us. We are nice girls and happy to chat to you.
Jaws dropping all round from the rest of the group, did GG1 really just invite him over? God! here he comes.
Leering man: Good evening ladies, may I buy you a drink?
GG2: Oooh! think I can be persuaded to try a little cocktail (Gosh that waiter is getting better looking by the minute)
GG1: No, I am fine thank you, I prefer to buy my own drinks
GG2: Are you crazy? Your always harping on about ensuring some poor sucker picks up our bar bill and as soon as one offers you act all virtuous. Take the bloody drink for god sake!!!
Hoover: Yes please ( dear lord she finally spoke)
Blondie: I'll have the same again (her opinion of him has certainly changed)
GG1: Ok, I can be persuaded to have a cup of tea.
GG2: What the f...? A cup of tea. We're in H Nicks for christ sake
GG1: I know but I am freezing and would love a cup of tea to warm me up
The waiter is now amused by the four girls infront of him and in particular myself (GG2 incase you have lost the plot by now) as well as our new found friend (leering man who later becomes affectionately known as the tongue)
GG2: I still want to be a cocktail waitress. Show me how you shake your stuff again?
to be cont:
just to bring you up to date, it's Sunday evening and poor GG1 is dying in her sick bed with a terrible chest so I will continue the story....
Indeed 2 & half cocktails later and GG2 is grimacing like a monkey and finding everything amusing in her usual fashion. Blondie is definitely finding the men more attractive, there is that strange glint in her eyes. Oh my gosh and the hoover just sucked up another £15 cocktail and I swear her lips did not touch the straw.
GG2's confidence is now bursting at the seams and suddenly notices the waiter shaking his cocktail shaker at her
GG2: my you certainly know how to shake that thing with your right hand, I bet you have big muscles?
The waiter could hardly contain his smile.
GG2: I could be a cocktail waitress. I want to be one of those, I could do that (ok so I was a little too enthusiastic - a combination of several different cocktails and you can take on the world - plus he was damn cute)
GG1: Oh god! she is off again, flirting with the waiter
In the meantime, to our left was a strange man staring (or dare I say leering) at us just a few feet away.
GG2; Look, omg that guy is leering at us, don't look (too late all four girls were now staring him straight in the face)
GG1: (to strange leering man!) What are you looking at? Come over here if you want to chat to us. We are nice girls and happy to chat to you.
Jaws dropping all round from the rest of the group, did GG1 really just invite him over? God! here he comes.
Leering man: Good evening ladies, may I buy you a drink?
GG2: Oooh! think I can be persuaded to try a little cocktail (Gosh that waiter is getting better looking by the minute)
GG1: No, I am fine thank you, I prefer to buy my own drinks
GG2: Are you crazy? Your always harping on about ensuring some poor sucker picks up our bar bill and as soon as one offers you act all virtuous. Take the bloody drink for god sake!!!
Hoover: Yes please ( dear lord she finally spoke)
Blondie: I'll have the same again (her opinion of him has certainly changed)
GG1: Ok, I can be persuaded to have a cup of tea.
GG2: What the f...? A cup of tea. We're in H Nicks for christ sake
GG1: I know but I am freezing and would love a cup of tea to warm me up
The waiter is now amused by the four girls infront of him and in particular myself (GG2 incase you have lost the plot by now) as well as our new found friend (leering man who later becomes affectionately known as the tongue)
GG2: I still want to be a cocktail waitress. Show me how you shake your stuff again?
to be cont:
Saturday, 4 October 2008
A Memorable Night in a Cocktail Bar part 1:
Not to mention your grammar!
OK, the evening actually went like this:
The girls were all getting dolled up to go out, I'd booked us a taxi and told GG2 to be ready by 18:15.
18:30 we were still waiting! Blondie was with us and had made another quick dash to the loo (still not sure if she isn't powdering her nose or applying make up). But here they come as if it is still 17:30 fresh faced and smelling gorgeous, there is only a hint of minx in GG2's eye as she winks at the driver when he opens the door for her.
I'm sitting upfront, for me at the beginning of the evening is a rare occasion I assure you, however, there were four of us in this taxi and my goodness did he know about it.
GG1: Sorry for the delay.
GG2: She was powdering her nose.
Blondie: Hee Hee (hands clasped up to her chin, head tilted to the right)
GG1: (Eyes rolled to the ceiling) Sigh!
Blondie: So where are we going, I've been looking forward to this all week.
GG1: I know, you haven't stopped going on about it every time I've seen you. now belt up, get your knickers into gear, we're off Whoring!
Blondie: Hee Hee (hands clasped up to her chin, head tilted to the right)
GG2: I am so up for it tonight, I've even got me Fuck Me Jesus shoes on. God you're gonna lurve it in Harvey Nick's, we had so much fun on Saturday.
Blondie: Hee Hee (hands clasped up to her chin, head tilted to the right)
You getting the picture of Blondie?
So poor Mr Taxi driver, really not in the mood for four girls, carried on smiling throughout, remember we had kept him waiting for nearly half an hour. Yes there were four of us, Ms P's (affectionately known as the hoover, I'll reveal why later) lack of substance abuse kept her quite for the duration of the journey with occasional snorting when she found something funny.
After what seemed an age, we arrive, in style, outside Harvey Nick's. Now at this moment, I hasten to add, that I had it on good authority Clarin's counter had moved to where Accessories used to be, as a result of this move they were offering free Champagne. What I wasn't informed, was the fact you needed a ticket to gain entrance. Thank you Clarin's I spent £65.00 and not even a sniff of the bubbly, I am so now a confirmed Guinot Girl from here on in.
GG2 then interrupted my trail of skin care thought, by ranting on, "Fuck me girls, my shoes are killing me, did you not know they are for display purposes only?" Here I would love to go off in one of GG2's fantasy description of her Red Patent Leather Fuck Me Jesus Four Inch Heels, complete with S&M studs, but that's a whole other post.
Slow start to the evening, the maitre d showed us to a table right in the middle of the room. Blondie kept on looking over at me and then at her watch:
Blonde: Nothing's happening, when's it gonna happen, you always say stuff happens.
GG1: It does (under my breath) when you're not around.
I smile politely at her as the waiter brings our cocktails over.
GG2: How about making something happen?
GG1: OK, that guy behind you, no don't look round, yes, that's him. He is reading the paper, ask him if we can read our star signs.
Blondie: I can't do that, he's ugly.
GG1: That's not the point, you have to put yourself out there, you know, kiss lots of frogs, before you meet your prince.
Blondie: I don't know if I can.
GG2: You do it.
GG1: I always have to do it, you've been pawns long enough, time to flee the nest and fly my pretty's, fly!
The Hoover, at this point, has managed to suck up £15.00 worth of cocktail, we hadn't even licked the cherry. At this rate, it was going to be an expensive evening. Determined not to pick up the bill again I urge that the tab is picked up by someone else. Not that I'm out to fleece anyone, but hey, if a kind gentleman would like to pick up the bar bill for my Diet Cokes at £3.50 a time. GG2 does like to point out that I am such a cheap date, however, my philosophy is, if I am not prepared to buy it myself, I will not let any other bugger pay. To which GG2 retorts every time. You're philosophy is Bullshit, skin the bugger's make them pay.
After aghast eyes stare at the Hoover for a few seconds GG2 turns to the gentleman behind:
GG2: Excuse me, is that the Times, or the Guardian?
Gentleman (Mr T.): The Times.
GG2: Oh is it?
Mr T.: Yes, it is.
GG2: I lurve the Times, I read it every weekend, I especially enjoy the horoscope section.
GG1: (under breath) Original!
GG2: (girly giggle) Would you mind?
Mr T.: Be my guest.
She took the whole broadsheet; and it was the broadsheet version, I thought they'd stopped printing them, right over to our table. Try as we might we could not find any section of the Times that had a horoscope printed. Poor guy wandered around the room the rest of the evening, peering over as if grooming us for some solicit pleasure.
Two and half cocktails later, for GG2 and our confidence booming, I get them all to stand around the bar. Now for those of you have not been to Harvey Nick's Wine Bar, it is something to behold. You have to, at least once, have been there. It is a marvel of cosmopolitan, larger than life characters and that is just the cocktails. One could just sit and people watch all evening, the guys certainly do. In the centre of the room is the bar which is circular, with beautifully displayed bottles of infused vodka. There are high stools all around the rim and you can't help wishing that the counter had a "Lazy Susan" fitted to it, as a decoy for potential pervs.
I Was Working as a Waitress in a Cock.....
Oops sorry typo!
Cocktail bar
What was I drinking to make me want to become a cocktail waitress? Or was it the gorgeous sexy cockkkktail waiter - oops another typo
GG1 you really need to tell the story as my typing is atrocious.
An Unlikely Florence Nightingale
GG2 is coming over today, nice of her to turn down tickets to see Wicked with Mr S. You know you have a friend when she would rather spend an evening cooped up with an coughing, spluttering, hacking whore rather than an elegant night out at the theatre.
I've booked to go to the Tapas later on, even if I am ill at least I can have some eye candy, in the form of lush Spanish waiters. Mmmm nice bottoms in tight black trousers, bring on the Potatoes Bravas!
I've booked to go to the Tapas later on, even if I am ill at least I can have some eye candy, in the form of lush Spanish waiters. Mmmm nice bottoms in tight black trousers, bring on the Potatoes Bravas!
Friday, 3 October 2008
Busted!
Just logged on to the dating site, menacing message, someone has dobbed us in, sneaky suspicion it may be that girl who contacted us. Such a shame both CC2 and I were having too much fun:
Oh dear, but you know what they say, two profiles are better than one!
Subject: Complaint
Message:
Dear CC1We have received complaints and due to this taken down one of your pictures as profiles are for one person only. We would appreciate your cooperation in this matter as we will be forced to take down your profile if we receive another complaint that two people are using your profile.
Oh dear, but you know what they say, two profiles are better than one!
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