Thursday, 29 November 2012

Circus Boy 10 - Just a Bootie Call

Now IIRC I didn't hear from Circus Boy for about a month, and I pretty much had put it down to experience and forgotten about it - even more so because at this time my Dad got very, very ill. We are talking moribund here. My Naughty Little Sister Mandy came over form Germany because we thought he was going to cark it at any second and she wanted him to see his new grandchild before he died. My older sister phoned to see if she had to come up the weekend Mandy was here, and was told by the MacMillan nurses in no uncertain terms that not only should she come, but if there were any family members who wanted to see Dad before he died, they should come ASAP.

The old bugger lasted another month!

Then out of the blue one Thursday - it's usually a Thursday, I must be his Thursday Girl - Circus Boy phoned and asked me if I wanted to go for a drink to the open-mic night. Except it was 10.30pm, the open mic would have surely been closing and I had a son but no babysitter. So I said no. He then wanted to come around, but since I felt a teensy bit annoyed at his 'no contact for a month but now you just drop everything for me' attitude, I said no, I was tired and going to bed. But I wasn't horrible, and we chatted a bit. then the second he was off the phone I stuck on facebook about how I had just had a booty call, cos I have no doubt that's what it was.

That Sunday I went to bed exceptionally early, even for me. I put my phone on 'very quiet' when I go bed - I still can't sleep without it next to me cos I still have a bit of Steve-stalking fear - so that if I am awake I'll hear the little 'beep' it makes, but if I am sleeping there's no way it would wake me. So I was drifting off and I have to admit I did hear the 'beep', but I was too drifty to attend to it, and fell off to sleep.

I woke up to find I had FOUR missed calls from Circus Boy, but no message left, and no text to explain. Now I actually felt a little bit guilty, because I had heard the one beep, and maybe he was stranded somewhere and in trouble and.... well, do you see how my rescuer mentality gets me into trouble?

So I texted saying sorry I hadn't replied, and was he ok, cos seeing all the missed calls had got me worried. Then I went off to work. Kept checking my phone to see if he had replied, but nothing, not a sausage. Got home from work and about 6pm he texted, but said NOTHING about the night before, just asked if I was ok or some such (can't remember, but can remember he said bugger all). I texted back saying all the calls meant I'd been worried and I hoped this meant he'd escaped the mad axe murderer. (I'm not being nuts here am I? Four missed calls would generally mean there was something a bit urgent going on, wouldn't it? And one would generally feel obliged to explain one's importunity in such a case, wouldn't one? <Prince Charles mode now off>) He then texted back a set of instructions on how to dodge axe murderers. This was not a reply and even M_ from work, who is notoriously romantic (so much so that she even held out hope for Steve to come good), was unimpressed.

Fast forward almost week of hearing nothing from him again. Once again it is Thursday night, and once again my phone rings. But it is only about 8pm, and this time Circus Boy is phoning to see if he can come over after open-mic night. So I said yes.

This may be a good point to catch you up with my bed situation. You will recall that Circus Boy and I managed to break my bed. I decided that the repair with tape really wasn't a keeper, and so I'd ordered another bed - a metal one. It was self-assembly, but I am Queen of the Flatpack, so no problem, and I had it up within a couple of hours. Now experience made me query the strength of its construction, as I could see that the central joint was the main load-bearer, and it was held together by one small screw (I'd need a diagram to fully explain this, but take my word for it). So I wrapped loads of sellotape around the joint as a precaution (I was out of electrical and gaffa tape by this time).

About a week later I had a drunken and ill-advised cop-off with a negligible bloke who turned out to be married. Not that he ever admitted it, but I am convinced it is true. Mad thing was, I was trying to be grown up and sensible, and I decided that because he was 40-odd he fitted the bill. How wrong could I be? But still, one drunken grope and fumble and a bit of bouncing too far on that bed, and the whole bloody thing collapsed underneath us! So, in a matter of six weeks I had managed to break not one but TWO beds. Oh how proud I was!

But I know my rights, and so I got in touch with the sales company and quoted the Sale of Goods Act which states that products should be fit for purpose, and since beds were used for sex as well as sleep, they most definitely should not fall apart during the act, however vigorous. Gotta say, were great, the girl who phoned me went through a good few bed suggestions with me that I could choose from. I said that if they sent someone to take my bed down and put the new bed up, then I would pay the difference in price (cos it was about £200 for the one I chose), but otherwise I wanted the new bed completely for free to compensate for my time and inconvenience. She said that was perfectly reasonable, and so that is what happened - I put up the new bed (much more sturdy) and I got a much better bed than the original - YAY!

At the time of putting up this bed, I had sort of thought what a shame that I would never have the chance to test it with Circus Boy, but by this time I was pretty sure this wasn't going to happen, and it was the furthest thing from my mind when he came over that Thursday.

So when he got here we were immediately into the chat and catching up on what we were up to, and then Circus Boy said, 'I don't know why we don't see eachother very much because I really like you.'

'Well maybe we don't see much of eachother because you blow hot and cold - one minute you are all over me and the next you ignore me, and I don't know where I stand.'

And do you know what he said? What he had the CHEEK to say? He said, 'I don't think that's me - I think that's you. You are the hot and cold one - I actually think you are what they call Emotionally Unavailable.'

'You what!' I was laughing with surprise, because emotionally unavailable is a phrase used on Baggage Reclaim, so here he was, accusing me of being what HE is, and he was able to do that because of stuff he'd read on a website I had recommended to him, to help him in his personal relationships! I was well miffed.

I pointed out that he was the one who hadn't contacted me for a month.

'Well, you could have rung me,' he said.

'That's not the way it works, and you know it,' I said, and his little-boy-caught-out grin told me I was right, he DID know it.

And then the killer blow from him - 'you unfriended me on Facebook!'

'I EXPLAINED THAT!! And I told you to send me a friend request if you wanted to, and you didn't!'

'Well it still upset me. I thought we were friends....'

So after a bit of discussion, we decided that yes, we could be friends, and I actually felt a bit relieved that now I knew where I stood, and I wouldn't be worrying about what he thought of me, and he could relax cos he wouldn't think I was wanting anything more, and I felt fine with that.

After loads more chatting and laughing, it was really late, about 1am. I was going to Birmingham the next day after hydrotherapy, for an consultant orthopaedic appointment with one of the residents. This was a big deal for various reasons and so I wanted to get a good sleep for it, which I told Circus Boy. 'So I'll have to chuck you out now.'

'Can't I stay here?'

Well, I suppose it was a bit late to be wandering the streets without a unicycle, so I said ok. Bbut where would he sleep? 'I can bring you down the spare quilt and pillows, but you're quite tall, so you might want to take the cushions off the sofa and sleep on them on the floor.'

'I'd rather sleep with you'

'I don't generally sleep with my mates.'

But he gave me one of his puppy-dog looks and so I thought, oh, ok, it's not very comfy down here. 'But NO FUNNY BUSINESS!'

I thought he was completely disregarding this instruction when he got into bed naked. I knew for sure he was disregarding it when he started groping me. With his penis.

'Look, I told you, we're just mates now, this isn;t going to happen.'

'But why not? Why can't we be mates who sleep together?'

'Because that's just messy, I don't do messy...'

This conversation continued along much the same lines but with more and more added snogging for about an hour. And then I suddenly thought to myself, 'hang on, here is a 24 year old that I fancy the arse off, begging me to have sex with him. And I WANT to have sex with him. So why the hell am I saying no?'

And that is the closest I have come to playing hard to get with him. Pathetic aren't I? :-(

But at least the bed got a damn good testing.

I was late to hydro the next morning, but I decided the way to go was to brazen it out.

'Sorry I'm late, I have no excuse aside from being an utter slut who's had no sleep cos I've spent the whole night shagging a boy.'

Luckily only M_ had got there before me, and she just wanted an excuse to believe that me and Circus Boy were destined to be together, and here it was. So we had a nice morning chatting about what had happened and how and all the gory details.

Cos by this time I was fulfilling my own 'messy' prophecy. That morning he'd had a bad back, so I'd done a bit of naked fixing it (that isn't a euphemism, I quite literally did naked physio). And then on my way to work I'd dropped him outside his house cos it was chucking it down with rain, and he'd sat chatting for ages (whilst I held up half the town due to inconsiderate abandoning of the car rather than proper parking - but I'd thought he'd just jump out). Then as he went into his driveway he turned to blow me a kiss as I drove past. It's that sort of thing that makes me sort of fall a bit in love with a person. But that is the old me, so while my heart was still being an idiot like it has for the whole of my life, my head was telling me this was another 'hot' and that could only mean that 'cold' was on the way.

'I promised I'd add him on facebook'

'So have you?' asked M_

'Have I heck as like. If he really did want me to be his fb friend, he'd send a request himself.'

Then that evening he confounded all expectations. He texted to find out how the orthopaedic appointment had gone. It was the last thing I expected, really thoughtful.

So maybe things were changing, maybe he was ditching the hot and cold?

We will never know, because I was about to screw things up between us BIG TIME.....

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