Trippin’ Mug

So I was on a holiday of a life time with a person who meant so much to me. I took a loan and took this holiday, it was a symbolic trip and meant a new start for both of us.

 

After the landing I was paying for drinks, sandwiches, and tickets, soon I realized that I had not seen his purse for a while (let's just call it a purse when is carried by such a wuss.) In fact I had not seen his purse since we have left the city. I mean, yeah I made him come out for the trip, and yes, I have promised him a good time, but don't you even pretend to take it out when the bill arrives at the table?

 

What was increasingly annoying was that this guy had no hesitation whatsoever each time we sat down for a little break. First thing he asked for was a pint, followed by a full sized portion of local cuisine.

 

I was too happy, in fact, to complain. I was in an over-blissfully ignorant state even for my own goodness. He carried on spending my borrowed money. I carried on looking after him everytime he craved for goodies. Anyway, it was too late to back off then, we were already out there, what was I supposed to do?

 

I sort of knew that he had been lying to me every damn day leading up to the trip, so he can squeeze some milk out of me. The milk here being dough, rather than honey juice. I knew his mates were calling me sugar-mommy. I knew his friends looked at me and him thinking,

"You've done well, son. If you tolerate this creature while holding her hands for more than 30 sec and telling her she is a beautiful person, then you deserve nothing but these gifts!"

 

He cooed me and conned me, tricking me into thinking that it would lead to some future. After all, there was a matrimony involved, and I did not think anyone whisper love and promises with such a little regards to reality. I just thought that he was using all of my money, because he was planning to pay me back when we start this new life we have been talking about. He is going to graduate and will get some job he loves and enjoy, then we will have life together where he will be looking after me without breaking into MY savings all the f-in' time.

 

But, you know, told ya so, I am a mug. It was not even a month after the trip things started to deteriorate. As soon as I began saying that I was skint he started to leg it. It was beautiful. He exited SO fast, I thought it was a gash of wind. I was left completely shattered because it was all my fault. I've let him, AND myself to do this. There is no word to describe my stupidity.

 

Admitting one's own defect, I still don't understand why they (yes, THEY, not one) seem to come to ME? Why don't ya go up to some rich lady with better assets and all? I don't have any money. You must get sick kick out of torturing half broke person with certifiable mental problems. I am too broken to even know what I am thinking any more. I have not recovered from tortures after another and I am simply a malfunctioned marionette . Swing me around, why don't you?

 

Swiiiiiing.......! (Ka....ching!!)

The Reasons I am Pretty

My boss was telling me how pretty I am by citing following reasons;

I have an exotic look,

I have long, flowing, dark hair,

I have them eyes that are dead give away of where my blood is from.

 

OK, none of them is complimenting to me. Basically my boss was super positively discriminating me and pointing out that I am not normal looking, and will always be the outsider of the community. That I am an alien. If some people find these deficits attractive then that's repulsive to me as they clearly have acquired tastes and I am just their flavour of the moment, till the next one. And the hair? Does anyone EVER actually say a person is attractive because that person decided to grow a body wool for longer than others? And again, it is hugely depending on the taste of whether you like long hair or not, and it is NOTHING to do with attractiveness I may or may not possess.

 

My boss meant well, but that talk made me feel just tad worse than I was feeling, which was basically nawt. Back to square nil, and I am pretty,

pretty contained,

the glass is almost full of air.

It Sucks to be Single

"A table for 1 please."

I said so to this little guy. He, who was barely 5' tall, in return pulled this face, which he has pulled a couple hundred times on daily basis it now has become the second nature to him, said to me,

"Oh, I am afraid it will be at least 15 min wait."

 

Not only it was so sad to dine out on Friday night on your own, but also you had to have the fact you are Solo Absolut rubbed in all over your face by the corporate franchise restaurants who don't supply small tables for singletons.

 

"You are welcome to sit at the bar if you like?"

 

I glanced down my watch, and sighed quietly. If I waited for 15 minutes, the happy hour will be well over. I wouldn't dare say that to the little man. Today's the day I learn that you need to be more than 1 to have privileges to the happy hour.

 

"Yeah, that's fine. I am starving and I need to eat."

which was actually true. I have been so frail for over a week now, feeling uncontrollably unwell, I needed a sturdy meat dish for the Friday night so I could go on the weekend of non-stop working.

 

The only place available at the bar was the far end corner where all you can smell was the air freshener from the bathroom. I am not sure which is worse to have around food and drink; smell of urinals, or the toilet ducks.

 

I had my meal, with a pint of shandy, and went home. The meal was OK, and it was a nice, calm evening for a change, and I was in a mood for a good film while finishing half empty bottle of an Australian merlot. Then the door bell rang. It's only 10.30pm, who could that be? I only have a coked up skunk who likes to bother me at 3am, but not before midnight.

 

But it was.

 

It sucks to be single. Everyone thinks it's OK to put me in the smelly corner to dine, and it's acceptable to ask for free milk out of me when I really, really need to sleep so I can make a living. ....He was so out of it I couldn't even tell him that I am in love with him. So I just threw him out instead. He came back though. I had to slam the door couple of times in his face.

 

It sucks to be single, and, yes, I love it so much I will never give it up. All the freedom, discount in commiseration, free violence, full of drama and not a care in the world. You know, all that jazz.

A Random Night in N1 0AX

"And I got a girl friend at the minute,"
so he says. Well, I wasn't asking. I am not here to beg you to take me back, and I am not here to ask you why you asked me to email you and never returned any of them when I did. I am not here to ask you why you have ended things with me, and I am really not interested what you are up to. I am only here to hear you sing.

He was so bloody nice about it. If a guy says a hi to an old flame and be that nice, then I have to say that is a gift. I guess that is exactly why none of his hundreds of exes ever killed him. That is an applause worthy talent.

And by telling me about his new flame, he was cleverly manoeuvring me out of the way, without complicating the otherwise stressful situation. Fine, I get it. I am cool with that.

I didn't really want to talk to him. I mean, what am I suppose to say? It is nice to see you again, when it really isn't? (Who would want to see exes doing well and being happy? I'm not saying that I'd rather see them bleeding from heart while spelling my name out on the wall with the blood from the gash. But I'd rather stay away from the well functioning exes.) I wanted to stay anonymous in the crowd and not being spotted, but, jeeves, that pub was SO empty.

I was trying to hide in the non-existing crowd, and I have realized that I have been there before, in my dream. I even remembered that I knew his girl friend's name. ("Carmen? What sort of name is that?" is what I was thinking in my dream.) If I was there in my dream, then I guess that was a pre-programmed cosmic fuck up that I chose to endure.

As soon as he started talking to me, all I could remember was how nice it was to spend the time with him, even though I always knew how insincere he really was / is. Again, if a guy can do that, then that's a talent. I rather have him acted all freaked out and dismissive than having being all friendly and proper, but, oh no, he wouldn't let that happen for me.

(Some guy who was giving me eyes all that night passed me by, saying good night, then asked accusingly,

"Are you with that guy?"

OK, you are either psycho, or psychic. And the answer is, no, never.)

He then sang. His songs are still great. He sounded amazing for a live performer, but he did not sound as good as I thought he would be. I was singing along as I knew most of his songs by heart. Beautiful lyrics, nice tune to sing out. Everyone around me was quiet because his voice was powerful and clear, and, of course, none of them ever heard of his songs before. Then I saw the girl. She was standing right by the stage, singing along. She knew all the lyrics, and her lips were synching with mine. Oh, your new girl friend is VERY pretty. You are fucking idiot for thinking of even dumping this gorgeous little girl, (and telling me about it.) She is so in love with you. Her eyes, full of adulation, like mine were once back then, and I was thinking how glad I was that it was all over, and that I have never gotten around to where she is.

O, Crying Out Loud

What sort of a deranged mind would think it is OK to buzz the door bell about 150 times at 4 O'Clock in the morning and start sweet talking that how much you missed me?? I AM WORKING 7 DAYS A WEEK, I AM WORKING CLOSE TO 70 HOURS A WEEK, I AM WORKING IN 6 HRS!!! You have gone absolute bonkers, and this is, what, 4th time??? Get the fucking message across, you are not welcomed here, not now, not ever, never once!!!! You earn 100 grand a year, spending half of it all on properties and coke, so why don't you spend the rest on some hookers from Oxford Road??? I would rather sleep with Jeff Dahmer than having you in my place!!!!

 

Next time I will tell you that I am in love with you and that I want your baby. That should teach you a lesson. If not then I don't know what. Yeah, I will tell you that. I am in love with you for past 5 years. Take that and get drowned in agony, psycho.

3 Years On

I was not going to let it bother me, and I actually had to look at the calendar numerous times before I actually knew it was today, that was how much I was not bothered by today.

And this bitch in a black BMW fucking honked at me at the Sunbury at 9.15, for blocking her way because she decided to sway between lanes. How dear you, you fucking so-and-so,

and the next minutes I've completely lost it. The whole day went out the window.

I could not say a word till 12.14, too scared to burst into a full explosion, instead I squeezed out this pathetic paper thin smiles here and there, while inside I was boiling and freezing, tears and blood splashing out simultaneously from my nerves. And everyone at the office was very much aware of all of this and did not say a sentence to me. Clever cowards.

By 17.25, one of my colleagues accidentally forgot how bad the place I was at and decided to insult my intelligence by not telling me the obvious but by changing her tone of voice while saying,
"I cannot possibly get you."
and I've snapped. I heard it in my head. Then I actually was yelling like a woman at this one.

By 18.45, while pushing a trolley in ASDA, getting 2 tabs of Haagen-dazs for 4 quid I buried my head in a mountain of crisps, nearly pushing the trolley into a woman with a handheld basket.

 

By 19.10 I was pumping gas and sniffling, and by 19.20 I saw a lovely couple happily laughing and started crying.

 

It is not about you. You don't bother me any more even though you have clearly ruined my life and my ability to function for next decade or so. You don't bother me because I know you will rot in hell, and that day is not so far from you. It is more about the past and the future the day represents. This is the only day I hold regret in my heart. You don't deserve that much grief from me, you fucking shit.

 

By 20.09 I was totally OK. The day is almost over. I only had 2 scoops of Haagen-dazs.

 

I just want to go.

You are THE Leg, Cyd

R.I.P. Cyd Charisse, you are my eternal godess, my idle, my love, my air and my tears. You have taken my breath away god knows how many times, you are beyond genius, and you are the best, always have been and always will be. You were the muse of so many, many great films, and you are the history, my life did not become what it is without you.

Oh Cyd, you were just too good to be true, like an absolute beauty dropped from heaven, and you are now taken away from us. I sincerely do hope you had a happy life, and that you are resting in peace. I love you, and thank you, Cyd.