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Rescue me

  Sun 13th August 2017

Wendy and me went for a drink the other day, before going up to Kitty's. Wendy's ex has started sending her postcards, addressing her in the same way on the envelope as I do. I'm not allowed to be with her daughter, because I take drugs -- which, in the random hierarchy of the censorious, are worse than the ones he was snorting at a wedding a couple of weeks ago. I was told I'd have to leave at five o'clock, when he was dropping her off, while they continued the party.

The clock was ticking down, and her ex's presence was all the air in the room. He's controlling me now, as well as Wendy. Wendy has said that she'll sort it out with him but she's said that before and nothing has happened. Everything that we do together has to be lied about and concealed. It's awkward for her because she relies on him with their daughter, but I still wish she would be a bit more forceful with him. I was ushered out of the house at a good interval before he was likely to turn up, and I bade them all a cheerful farewell that I didn't feel.

Yesterday evening, I was informed that I wouldn't be working at the pub any more. The Cunning Little Vixen has ousted me and there is nothing I can do about it. I did some half-hearted job applications -- waiter, social media content writer, admin in a rail electrification project -- before texting Wendy with an unattractive mixture of self-pity, frustration and accusation.

I'm going to do this [CELTA] course then fuck off to Portugal. I'm getting nowhere here. I love you, you don't love me. My girls are going to uni soon. I keep losing jobs. What's keeping me here? You can get a grant to do it and I'm going to stay at Trina's house while I do the course in Liverpool. I'm drinking too much and I want to get a fucking grip. I'm sick of this.


Kim rang, as dejected as me. She's split up with her boyfriend. "It was nice not to think of the weekends as a big morass of loneliness. It's a shame. This one meant something." All the misery attachment can bring. She's coming to stay on Bank Holiday weekend. It can't come quickly enough. I could do with an arm round my shoulders at the moment.


Joining the band of the recently separated, is Attractive Former Barmaid, who seems more relieved than upset about her break-up. We bumped into each other in the pub. She was looking very pretty, in a white broderie anglaise top which narrowed in at the waist.

"It must be far easier for a bloke to find someone."

"Eh? It's a thousand times harder for men. It's almost impossible. Well, for me it is anyway."

"Well, you can go out and chat to people."

"Yes, but do you not notice the way men look at you Karen? Like that bloke you said hello to a minute ago? Women choose, not men. We're the commodities, you're the buyers. We're on the shelf; you come along and pick. So fuck knows what price I'd fetch."

We passed a pleasant couple of pints of time. That evening I texted her and suggested we should do it again.

U make me giggle! Anytime u want to meet is fine by me xxx

I suggested Monday, tomorrow.

I'm all yours love!! Give me a time and I'll be there xxx

There were a few more, but I wasn't sure what she was up to, so I sent her one at sex o'clock saying "Oh dear Karen, I'm having thoughts about you that I shouldn't be having X"

Aww least your honest looby I like that in a man thankyou xxxx

"You could wear that white broderie anglaise top you've got if you liked. There's a couple of buttons on it that need undoing very slowly XX"

Your a bugger I like it lol xxx See you on Monday my sweet xxx

Please fuck me Karen. Please rescue me from Wendy.

11 comments

Comment from: Homer [Visitor]

I’m not sure I agree that women hold all the power. Maybe for a shag but not for a relationship. I’ve got several successful, kind, attractive friends in their late thirties who have been unwillingly single for years and years.

Sun 13th August 2017 @ 17:10
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Wish I were twenty years younger and lived in your county. I bet your friends are dying to get it together with a poor, unattractive, untall, jobless non-houseowner.

Are any of them bothering with internet dating? They sound like a catch.

Sun 13th August 2017 @ 19:03
Comment from: Homer [Visitor]

I know right? I don’t understand it. They are wonderful women.

A - size 10 - is divorced 4 years; the only message she’s had on Tinder in the last month is “sorry luv I meant to swipe left.”

J - great rack - plays her cards close to her chest but is on one of the major dating sites, I believe.

R - blindingly sarcastic and funny - considers internet dating intolerably demeaning.

My pet theory is that most men assume women in their late 30s are baby-hungry and don’t want to be sperm donors.

Sun 13th August 2017 @ 20:54
Comment from: [Member]

Could I have R please?

Right…. are in fact A, J and R baby-hungry?

Sun 13th August 2017 @ 21:28
Comment from: Homer [Visitor]

They are, yes. Well, not “stealing pushchairs from outside Greggs” obsessed, but they’d all love to have children.

Sun 13th August 2017 @ 21:37
Comment from: [Member]

Mmmmm….might put some blokes off.

Sun 13th August 2017 @ 21:39
Comment from: Homer [Visitor]

It’s weird innit? My baby sis - 31 with two under-5s - is fighting them off with a shitty stick on Tinder. And those are real, visceral kids that potential suitors have to tolerate 24/7. But men seem really to be put off by the thought of their own POTENTIAL children with A, J and R.

Sun 13th August 2017 @ 21:48

The Buddhists are right. Attachment only leads to misery. Wish we could all get that through our heads. I move to Portugal would be brilliant. I’m not sure a proper bang from Karen would cure you of anything. Perhaps temporarily.

Mon 14th August 2017 @ 11:55
Comment from: [Member]

And it brings immense pleasure and joy too. Buddhism is about the polar opposite of what I feel any sympathy with.

Portugal – yes, I lived there for two years and I got to know the language a little bit and I just feel a bit stuck here. It’s not been a great year so far.

I’m meeting Karen at 3 o’clock in The Shipbuilder’s Armpit. I can’t work out how to dress. Are we going on a date?

Mon 14th August 2017 @ 12:02
Comment from: kono [Visitor]

Probably from the copious amounts of ganja i imbibe i’m quite down with the Buddhist philosophy, i’m also an ordained Dudeist priest so i can legally marry people and shit like that, Dudeism of course is based on the movie The Big Lebowski…

and i’m all for Karen fucking you, i’ll respectfully disagree with Exile, proper shags are up there with magic mushrooms in helping to realign the psyche into a more positive view, i also understand my worldview might be slightly different than the norm…

And if you allow me to go all psycho-analytic, i’d say it’s time to tell Wendy goodbye, i can only glean what is written but it seems an unhealthy thing for you at this point sir, everything about it seems to say “run away", now i understand the appeal of not but sometimes we forget we must take care of ourselves first be for we can do that for others and that relationship may even be subconsciously sabotaging your chances with other women… hence get away from her, tell her it’s nothing personal or tell her nothing at all but put some distance between…

i’m the Leo Tolstoy of comments (meaning they’re long as fuck) and pulled up Fontella Bass’ Rescue Me and somehow the next song played was I Want the One i Can’t Have by the Smiths, hmmm…

Tue 15th August 2017 @ 13:23
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Well, I’ll give an account of my inconsequential meeting with Karen in the next post.

I can’t – and don’t want to – move Wendy out of my life. What I *can* do (and *should* want to) is to stop hoping for an idealised relationship with her; and, even, given that she no more fancies me than the third lampost on the left, give up trying to develop a sexual relationship with her. I’ve know this for a long time, but it’s hardly an easy thing to do with a girl like Wendy.

And what an apposite sequence of music you landed on!

Wed 16th August 2017 @ 23:15


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