We've all played this game right? Out of a selection of three guys 'who would you...?', and then you go on to place the guy into a catergory. The 'Kill' selection usually the least attractive of the bunch.
Shame shame.
So it's Sunday night I'm in bed, its 11pm. The previous night (and most of the day) I slept 13 solid hours straight so I'm having a hard time dropping off and as I have work the next day I am mildly irritated as well.
My phone goes off, I think it's Princess texting me AGAIN about the Chloe shoes that have not arrived for the third week in a row because of the postal strike. These text have been coming thick and fast since I got back from NYC and are usually four worders like blah. to. the. world. or something of that ilk, but as other peoples shoe pain amuses me no end (you with small feet will never undertsand), I open up the text to read it anyway- for the laughs.
But it's not her.
Instead, it's him the 'shag' guy, the architypal 'Marlboro' guy who is metaphorically speaking, the guy I have been sleeping with since the history of my adult life, the hot and stupid guy. In this particular instance the hot stupid guy is the fucking numpty neighbour.
For those of you who don't remember this story I stopped having sex with when this happened and also because his calls every other week asking if I knew where he could 'score some weed' - again, almost always on a sunday night-were not a turn on.
Hey, around? Alone...
Short, consise and... coherent. The fact that I could make sense out of what he was saying would have impressed me if I was not filled with the rage. Because every relationship I have winds up like this. The 3 word sex text and with the same old junkie/ recovering junkie/ I promise I'm no longer a junkie type.
I called Princess.
I thought he was like dead... urgh. He. makes. me. sick. WHY does he even bother? Eww. *flicks hair and pulls her 'me-no likey' squinty face, all of which I can sense even though we are talking on the phone*The fact is I get it, men like him are just like that, hot hot idiots. If you foolishly get some sort of urge to respond. Throw your phone out of the window instead.
Roll forward two days. It's Tuesday night and I'm having beers in the Lock Taven with a Guy I have been friends with since I was 21 (I'm 25, yes 25, soon to be 26 blah to the world), let's Just call him Dean, who has just moved back from Japan after working there for 2 years.
About 6 months before he left for Japan, he told me had a major crush on me and then broke up with his girlfriend.
About 4 months before he left, we ended up in bed together.
On the night in questions I was very drunk. I remember waking up at about 3am and congratulating myself on making it home and managing to get into bed without being sick (I was in such a state)...
...That was until I noticed I was not alone, to which my instinctive reaction was to scramble out out of my bed and sneak into bed with my housemate... and as if that wasn't bad enough, afterwards I proceeded to carry on the next day as if nothing had happened.
If someone had done this to me, I would have died.
Despite this, he has carried on being my friend. We have since hung out a lot, we are constantly in touch and he is probably one of the closest male friends I have.
Last night over conversations about girls he has 'Dean'-i-fied 'translation: turned crazy', (I forgot to mention he is very attractive) I realise that actually a guy this good looking and nice should be the one to shack up with, you know have sex with and marry... Then I caught the eye and proceeded to flirt with the guy wearing the ironic fedora hat, shoulder length hair, shiny dimples and sleeveless - yes sleeveless - lumberjack shirt, (clearly a substance abuser/ reformed axe murder/ incoherant irritant of my usual taste), over his shoulder.
... And here This is my point, whenever I play the game 'shag/Marry/ Kill' My answers always remain the same.
Have sex with the constantly broke substance abusing, oaf with the sexy face, 2 syllable sentences and very simple conversation.
Marry the constantly broke substance abusing, oaf with the sexy face, 2 syllable sentences and very simple conversation.
Then kill the constantly broke substance abusing, oaf with the sexy face, 2 syllable sentences and very simple conversation...
... and make the nice guy sleep on the couch at all times...
Great. Roll on spinsterdom
MM x x x x x
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