I hadn’t heard from her in over a year, since that last mad Friday before Christmas when Glasgow goes nuts for the day.
Just like everywhere else.
The city centre is full of drunken works party nights, fights erupting because the alcohol has lowered the inhibitions and given the pent up frustrations a voice, or a fist.
Guys making complete arses of themselves trying to get off with that office girl they fancy, who isn’t really interested, but he’s hoping to catch her in a weak moment.
Worse .. the office girl giving it to the lecherous and probably married boss, then regretting it the next morning after she wakes up alone to find that he’s disappeared back to the wife at 3am.
She called me drunkenly at 1am asking me to join her and her friends at some club in town.
She swore down the phone that she loved me, despite that fact that she was 6 months pregnant with her and her husband’s fourth child. Continue reading “Wolf – Once?”→
Of course I miss you, it would be stupid to think that I didn’t.
A couple of years together thrown away a puff of anger, hurt feelings and faux outrage.
Faux?
Because we are both proud people and although we were both in the wrong, our pride doesn’t allow us to apologise and climb down from our moral high ground very easily.
I know that I upset you, you know that you upset me, but is worth throwing away a bright future for the sake of some relatively petty issues?
Probably not.
So why are we allowing this to continue to fester and the distance between us to grow?
I’ve already said sorry. I don’t think I can do anything more.
That’s the thing about being divorced, or at least separated .. after the initial emotional trauma, if you even have that, you’re single and free to do what you like.
Okay, the process didn’t turn out exactly how I planned it, caught red-handed and unceremoniously kicked out the family home with a couple of suitcases packed and waiting in a hotel room for me. Continue reading “Wolf – 5 – Freedom”→
I’m a big Stevie Wonder fan .. If tunes like Superstition, I Wish, Sir Duke, Living For The City etc don’t make you want to dance thee is something wrong with you.
I particularly love I Wish, its a different more upbeat slant on the song Dance With My Father .. which I also love. Stevie sings of his mum keeping him right, greeting him at the back-door to tell him the difference between wrong and right and for me it brings back memories when I used to hang about with those “hoodlum friends of mine”.
I was listening to all of these songs while getting ready for work and on my train journey this morning.
I work in a busy open-plan office, having headphones on helps block out the background noise of other peoples conversations and helps you focus on the task at hand .. even if your head is bopping along to the music.
It’s the pulse .. it flows in us .. music is always playing in my head.
Better that than hearing voices! 🙂
When the pulse stops, the dance is over and we die .. thats it.
So I’m sitting there listening to Steve Wright on Radio 2 .. and someone is picking the music of their lifetime .. a bit of Stevie coming up fantastic!
But then .. of all the choices they choose .. I Just Called To Say I Love You.
Now I don’t know about you, but it has to be one of the worst pop songs ever, sickly scmaltzy and almost gives me the boke.
Now compare that with the song As from his album Songs in The Key Of Life.
Now theres a tune and a lyric which conveys the emotion of being in love without the need for a sick-bag.
I even love the version by George Michael and Mary J Blige, noted for its video which was avant-garde in its use of computer controlled cameras and overlaid video.
Until the rainbow burns the starts out of the sky
Until the ocean covers every mountain high
Alex said to me .. She’s got all the right bits, just not in all the right places.
I looked over to see who he was talking about .. and there she was, tall, long legs, long strawberry-blonde hair, decent tits .. the more than a handful size that fills your mouth or smothers your face without looking like they came from a joke shop.
Her face is pretty enough in that quirky way, like Ellen Barkin in Sea Of Love .. she smiles and her mouth twists a little .. but I kinda like it.
I’m wondering what he’s talking about, I don’t see anything unattractive in this woman.
Then she walked towards the bar, and it was all wrong, as incongruous as John Wayne stepping up to order a few French Martini’s, something just didn’t fit. Continue reading “Blind-Sided? …. Part 1”→
Like kids collect cards of their favourite football players?
Do you collect their underwear and keep it in a drawer underneath your bed?
Do you talk about these women in the pub, compare notes, discuss the intimacies of what you did with who?
Did you?
Have you?
Well you ought to fucking grow up.
Women, regardless of their career aren’t toys to be collected.
Personally I like to keep my memories in my head, those treasured thoughts of what I did with whom, when, where, what we ate, where we went, what music we liked.
But thats really none of of your business.
Somehow these private thoughts have never lost their clarity and sometimes all it takes is a piece of music or the scent of a particular perfume to take me back to some other place and some other time.
Still it’s not every day you get to fuck an airline hostess,
Marie arrived straight from her shift, 7 day long haul to Barbados, most of the time her own except for a day spent on an internal shuttle to Greneda and back.
She said that she was looking forward to seeing me, even although most of her texts had been attempts to make me jealous as she lay by the pool, or that she was out for the evening, dancing with her friends and colleagues.
The jealousy was working!
As arranged, she sent me a text from the airport letting me know that she was back in the country and on the way.
I’d had a sense of anticipation all day, an excitement rushing through my veins, I couldn’t wait to see her.
I had an empty house and spent most of the day preparing for the night ahead, cleaning, hovering, changing sheets.
As the time of her arrival became closer, I turned the lights down low, her choice of music playing, the fizz was already on chill.
I wanted it to be good for her, I wanted her to feel special and desired. I wanted her to come again.
When her text arrived I ran her bath, but 15 minutes later as she arrived dressed in her uniform like a goddess from an airline commercial the bath was forgotten.
It was still dark at 5am as she dressed to go home, she liked to be there for her daughter waking up.
She was looking around the room, picking up discarded clothes and dropping them on the bed “Have you seen my thong?”
I shook my head “I’m sure it’ll turn up” hoping she didn’t see my smile in the darkness.
But I was a different guy back then.
—
Image borrowed from Virgin Airlines, how hot do these girls look?
Later that night, he lay in bed thinking about her and wondered why she had got in touch out of the blue again.
Was she genuinely interested in how he was or did she have a gap in her life and feel a bit lonely knowing that he would be available and was always a good listener and put a smile on her face?
The moment that i came through the door of the restaurant, I knew that it was him.
He was mid conversation and side-on to my viewpoint, but he hadn’t changed at all in the two years since I’d last seen him.
Two years since our short lived relationship ended, it probably only lasted six months in total and we only got together once per week at most, but it was great while it lasted.
Incredible to think that it was two years since I’d spent a night of fun and frolics at his, making love, laughing and chatting half the night. But then for some reason, that I can’t explain, our circumstances, both of us having busy life’s, it just never happened again.
There was no big fall-out, no arguments or tears, our emails and calls just dried up and stopped apart from the odd email every few months, then there would be some communication back and forth but there never seemed to be the desire to see each other again.
Even although two years puts a lot of water under the bridge, It was fairly predictable that our paths would cross sooner or later.
We both enjoyed the same music, the same bars, it was a matter of when not if.
When it happened, a Sunday afternoon in May, the location was somewhere we had went together frequently, The Oak Tree Inn at Balmaha was a particular favourite after a walk in the Loch Lomond area.
From first glance, I could tell that this was his new girlfriend and his daughter from the pictures that I’ve seen of her over the years.
They were looking at the menu and sharing a joke, it was obvious that they are close. I doubt that this is the first time that his daughter has met his new girlfriend.
DancingBhoy 