Rat pack, Robbie, ranting and Riding Harleys...

Well, wasn't that a busy Saturday. I didn't even watch Casualty! (To put that into context, Casualty is the one time a week I get to sit on the sofa snuggling with Babyboy. He has a touch of autism/aspergers (I can't say for sure cos my local health bods refuse to officially diagnose this stuff being that it costs the education bods more money in school assistance and all the local authority bods are in bed together blah bastards blah) so Casualty is the one time he will actually enjoy me touching/cuddling him, albeit conditional upon my tracing my fingers along his arm or face or wherever he currently chooses to be reminded of the way I used to put him to sleep as a baby. Plus, we compete to diagnose the diseases people are admitted with and I always win and then we laugh and say 'I should be a bloody doctor, me'.

Anyway, daytime was spent with two gorgeous young men in my bedroom. Of course, once they'd replaced the window in there they moved on to the other rooms upstairs but damn, it was good while it lasted! T and A (bwahaha! I just realised T and A are their actual initials, I'm so going to rib them about that!) are lovely, mid-twenties guys who work for my landlord and I know them from having my kitchen refitted so it was good to have them back doing my new windows. If I went for younger guys I'd flirt like mad but as it is we just have a giggle together playing 'name that tune' and the nicest hugs as they come and go. Babygirl was put in charge of making tea for the workers as I ran in and out of the house doing errands and stuff between oohing and ahhing at the new windows and praising the skills involved in fitting them. Harley had called a few times too, he was working and calling between jobs then texting from the pub when he'd finished to tell me how gutted he was that I was busy that evening.

Earlier in the week when he was texting and calling all the time, Harley had mentioned that his laptop was falling over a lot and I'd said I could fix that easy cos that's the sort of thing I do for my mates. Somehow, I wound up saying that I'd pick it up after I'd been out with sis for her birthday celebration so I could sort it out on Sunday while he was driving halfway up the country to see his daughter and have it dealt with by the time he got back. We exchanged a few texts, mostly him lamenting that I couldn't join him in the pub during the early evening or before I left for my night out and left it that I'd call him if I got lost.

Went off to the school thing and got moderately pissed off once more at sis telling me the event started much earlier than it actually did so that I didn't turn up late. Now, I freely admit that I was guilty of being late for a while but actually, her sis-in-laws are the ones most likely to keep everyone waiting nowadays and have been for at least three fucking years but no-one treats them like unreliable imbeciles and lies to them about starting times, do they? It really fucking winds me up, even more so on the evenings when I'm the cunt doing the driving cos I have the seven seater or I'm too broke to piss it up. Nnnggg! Fuckshitbollockywankers!

Anyway, guy on stage does a reasonable show with an hour of singlalongaratpack numbers then a change of clothes while the PTA bod drew the raffle so he could come out singing Robbie Williams sings and pretend the pissed up mums were lusting after him rather than his carefully aped moves and outfit. It was a bring your own drinks and nibbles type night so there were a lot of 'Oh look, I've had two plastic wine glasses of fizz and I'm sooooo drunk!' Essex mums about to fuel his fantasies.

That done, I leave to collect Harley's laptop. I even manage not to get lost on the way and only have to call him when I'm in his road but can't find his door. I'm not as dim as that made me sound, his door is on the side of his house! We laugh cos he can see me but I can't see him then he tells me he's feeling nervous now so may not be brave enough to answer the door. I remind him we've been talking all week and I'm here to collect a sick laptop with no intention of jumping him and we're still giggling as he opens the door and I put my phone in my bag. I have my boots on but he's still head and shoulders above me so I stand on the first step and we kiss hello.

He points out some things he'd told me about during the week then goes to get some drinks as I assess what crap he has on his hdd and start running some anti-lurgy stuff. He sits next to me, we're bantering and I playfully tell him off for the problems I'm already finding so he kisses me to shut me up, his massive hands start wandering and... well, I still have the bruises, let's put it that way. God, I love the experience that older men have! And he was a talker too, a lovely mix of filth and compliments at just the right moments. Pretty damn perfect for me.

I didn't take the laptop home, he said he wanted me to keep making home visits and string it out as long as possible. Thinking about it now he'd have to be a bit dim to let a strange woman go off with a £1500 piece of kit considering he doesn't even know for sure where I live!

Contact has been decidedly less frequent since he texted me on Sunday evening, not sure if that's cos I told him Monday and Tuesday are my manic teaching/training days or he's done that aquarian thing of just not talking anymore. I'm not chasing him, either way. At the moment I know he's finding his laptop worse cos one of the progs I put on keeps giving him pop up warnings that he doesn't understand so I guess if he wants me to complete sorting it I'll hear from him, other than that it was certainly an experience!