Is he taking the P? - Part 3

Saturday morning and I don't call him cos he said he wants a lie in plus I'm on a housework blitz cos the half-term has left me living in a bomb-site.

He calls me tho, quite a few times throughout the day and, amongst other things, says
- that he's really looking forward to this evening,
- that he'll come to my place for the first time tonight and say hi to the kids (when he'd called the landline to speak to me they'd sometimes picked up the phone so I agreed to a very quick 'names-to-faces' thing on condition that I could push him out the door at any moment I perceived they might possibly be thinking about being uncomfortable) before escorting me on public transport so I can have a drink or ten with him,
- that he's going to the bookies a bit later and will pick up a bottle of brandy 'for when I pop round in the week'.
- that he didn't get any brandy in the end so if I picked a bottle up while I was out he'd pay for it.
- that he was on the bus and it was full of noisy teenagers.

He got to my place and met the kids. The boys were taken with how easy-going (i.e. not scared of them) and openly chatty he was, as well as the No 1 Son being unusually impressed that he knew what was going on with Chelsea FC. Babygirl simply thought he was very tall and very handsome (yep, I do know she's too easily impressed and I'm working on it, believe me!).

He tells me at the bus stop how great they are and insists I take the money for the booze, having searched for and found the receipt in the bag, despite my protestations that I'm happy to buy my own addiction. We drop the hooch and mixer off at his place and walk (uphill, in heels ffs!), swapping smokes and arms and funny stories that make the elderly couple in front of us flush, to the High St where we decide to have a drink before the curry. He'd already told me he was affectionate in public but bloody hell! His arm didn't move from me the whole night apart from loo breaks and bar visits. How we managed to drink so much between all the kissing and laughing at green-eyed people staring at us whilst wearing bad clothes, well, I still haven't worked that bit out but in the end we forgot about dinner and went back to his place to drink a bit more in private.

The signs were clear that he was happy to have me alone but none of these signs came from his trousers so he looks at me and says 'sorry babe, the beer has got to me. You know what would be nice? If you'd come and get in bed with me for a cuddle'
I start to wonder if this man is a figment of my drunken imagination.

Good looking? - check.
Intelligent? - check
Funny? - check.
Single? - check.
Kind to children and animals? - check.
Likes good, hard, horny sex and erotic, naked cuddles? - Red alert! Red alert!

Fucking hell, that can't be real! Quick, stab it and see if it bleeds green ooze!

I didn't stab him and we played about a bit in between cuddling and talking for a couple of hours (oh come on, brewers droop is no more than a challenge to this woman, I just couldn't resist seeing if my gob on his knob would surpass the effect of that bitch, Stella!) till I said I really had to go, being that it was half-past-stupid o' clock. He called me a cab which he insisted on paying for and told me to make sure to text him that I was home safe. How am I meant to stay a cynical bitch with men like this within five minutes driving distance, I ask you?

Sunday was fun, I'll do that post when I'm not so pissed. Which means after the five hour karate seminar and sober cos I'm driving night out with karate people that I have booked for tomorrow.


P is for Prat. Stay tuned to learn why this is the case.