Friday, 23 November 2012

Circus Boy 8 - Memory of a Free Festival (or two)

About two weeks passed, and I had completely put Circus Boy out of my mind. Now don't get me wrong, I really had liked him, but ever since Steve I am a lot more wary about men. I no longer fall headlong into them like I used to - and this is a good thing. I kind of sit back and wait now - I see what they are really like rather than falling for my vision of what I think they might be like or what I think they could become like. So all the way through, much as I enjoyed his company, I also saw many MANY potential problems that said we were not suited. Now this is a major advance for me - because (as an example) Circus Boy has the same surname as Steve (no, they aren't related, I made sure of that), and his birthday is the same as the day me and Steve met. Ridiculous as it might sound, in the past I would have taken these coincidences as being a omen - a sign that we were meant to be together.

So I hadn't thought too far into the future (aside from planning our hippy wedding, obvs), and after his little display that last night, I really felt no regrets about walking away. Well, maybe a regret at no more hot-24- year-old in my bed, but hey.

It thus came as a bit of a shocker when he phoned one Friday night. Now the funny thing was, I'd only been chatting with K_ at the clinic the week before, and I'd said he was binned, and she'd said, 'yeah, until he phones you up with a sob story and then he'll have you eating out of his hand again.' How I laughed.

'So you need someone to drive you to two festivals tomorrow? Ok then.'

Now I can make an excuse and pretend that I did it out of the kindness of my heart, but that isn't strictly true. He needed someone to ferry around his fire stuff and DJing stuff, and his Dad couldn't do it. I would imagine pretty much everyone he knew couldn't do it either, cos I'm damn sure I wasn't the first he rang. Thing is, I didn't have a lot on. I was a bit of a heel, cos I was meant to be going to Sue's house on Saturday for a night of girly chat, wine and food with her and Heather, and I phoned her up not only to cancel but to talk about what to wear, what to take etc. I am NOT a good friend, am I? Still, they had the last laugh....

But I just could not resist the chance to DO something - something exciting, something to make me feel alive. You know, life when you aren't abused is much easier, and much happier, but dear God, compared to the adrenaline rushes and the long-term stresses and the walking on eggshells, at times it can feel DULL. And here was the chance to go to not one but TWO festivals, free - cos Circus Boy would pay for everything.

I went to bed that Friday night feeling like Cinderella about to go to the ball. But first I had to sort out three million things - dry food for the cat, holiday food for the fish, money, packing a bag, what to take etc. Finally I left the house on Saturday morning about 11.15 - I was supposed to pick Circus Boy up at 11.

So imagine my surprise when he gestured me around to the back door and he opened it WEARING ONLY HIS PANTS. And DEAR GOD were they small! Or was he big, I just couldn't bring myself to examine properly for fear of blushing, because I had already decided that it was friends only from now on.

So in typical Circus Boy style, he sat me down at the table and made me some revolting green tea while he ate breakfast, then sat chatting for ages, before discovering that his directions to the first festival were locked in his father's office. And his father wasn't in. So there followed a very tense conversation, unreasonable as ever on Circus Boy's end, that ended with his Dad deciding that the only thing to do was to come and let us in there.

Circus Boy went off to have a shower, leaving me to deal with Dad. Who wasn't best pleased to find that when he unlocked the office, the directions weren't there. So Spoiled Bastard Circus Boy threw a complete strop and had a proper paddy about this - because of course it was all his father's fault. I can't really describe it, it was like watching a toddler. And his Dad didn't really say a word, except to say Circus Boy was being unreasonable, and that he would go and get some instructions online. Which he did. Then, while Circus Boy got all his stuff together, his Dad began to load the dishwasher, and I helped him, while he asked me questions that appeared to be primarily designed to suss out my age - 'so how old were you during the miner's strike?'

So finally we get in the car about 1pm, and set off to the festival. Via three out-of-town shopping parks trying to buy paraffin. FFS, you're a fire-juggler, did it not enter your head to get some paraffin beforehand???

FINALLY we were on the road, and at this point things picked up dramatically. We were halfway there on the motorway, and we'd been chatting most of the way (well, Circus Boy had been telling me all about how his parents had screwed him up), then out of the blue he said, 'you're a really good driver, aren't you?'

I must have looked at him a bit shocked (I was) cos he continued, 'yeah, you're really quick and decisive, you're fast, but safe, and you don't get distracted, you always know what's going on around you.'

Well HELL YES! Thing is, I've always known I'm a good driver, cos I did an advanced driving course in Scotland, when the Trust paid for it because it lowered their car lease-holder insurance premiums. But Steve had always insisted I was a rubbish driver, nowhere near as good as him. Him with his provisional license cos he's never passed his test, probably because he drives like an utter boyracer cunt.

Finally we got to the first festival. You know Father Ted? Well this was Craggy Island Funland, but without the attraction of the Cat on the Tunrtable. It honestly looked something like this:

But first impressions dispelled, I actually had a really good time at this festival. I would have had an even better one if I'd been able to have more than one glass of wine, but I had a job to do, and I was going to do it to the best of my abilities. Cicus Boy did his DJing pretty early on, and that was a bit boring really, cos it's not my sort of music, but I wandered off and the bands here were pretty good, so the afternoon really flew by. We spent a lot of the time sitting on the grass listening to the bands and talking. Once it got dark, Circus Boy did his fire thing, and that was really cool, he is very good at it.

So by the time all this was done and packed away, it was gone 11, so off we sped to festival number two.

I was doing really well with the driving, I thought. In fact, the driving back to Circus Boy's house was the best bit of the whole trip. He was on a high from performing, and so he was playing music really loud, and I was feeling very useful and ALIVE, and it was a motorway drag so it was really fast. Back at Circus Boy's house, we unloaded the car and loaded up more fire stuff, before setting off for festival number two.

Now at least Craggy Island Funland had been next to a town that was on the map. No such luck with festival number two. It took me an hour to get to within a mile of it, and then another hour and a half finding the actual place. It didn't help that my finely tuned aggression antenna was picking up that this was really pissing Circus Boy off, especially when I found it a bit funny. Cos none of this was my fault, I was only following his navigation, yet he seemed to want to blame it all on me.

FINALLY we found the place - only for me to miss a turning on the way in, and end up in a ploughed field, driving round and round :-O  Worse - the field was on a hill, so everyone at the festival could see us!

So we gets there about 3am, but undeterred Circus Boy set up his fire and did his thing, whilst I did my best to get very quickly drunk (I had SO much catching up to do!) at the real ale tent. I don't like real ale.

But the funny thing was, there were people I knew there! Some people I work with were there - and even odder, one of them knew Circus Boy, and had done 'for years'. Once all this was done we went and sat around a fire until the sun came up. I had about three hours sleep in the car, and then got up to try to sort out my extensions. Yes, I had worn extensions. Yes, I am mad. Yes, it is impossible to sort out extensions in a portaloo.

The second day was actually quite emotional for me. It started out quite funny, cos it was chucking it down with rain, but Circus Boy was determined to do his DJ set, so he set up his decks in the open air, and covered them, and him, with a tarpaulin. This is him doing his set. And in the background is my little green car :-)

As you can see, this festival wasn't exactly Glastonbury either. In fact, the slightly odd thing about this festival is that there were only two acts on the Sunday. So there was a LOT of downtime. I drank a lot of hot chocolate with some friends of Circus Boy. At one point we did some 'balloons', which I thought was going to be helium, but felt very much like the gas and air you have when giving birth, so that was possibly the highlight of my day. The other highlight was looking at the picture Heather sent the day before of the food she'd eaten at Sue's. I was cold and a bit upset by now. This was happening while my Dad was ill, and my sister had phoned to say he was ok, but I was tired, and not even the slightest bit drunk, but very emotional.

The odd thing was, Circus Boy is actually very good at dealing with emotional distress. We talked a lot about Dad, and about my Mum and our difficult relationship, only complicated by her dementia, and my feelings about it.

We had to go back home about 3, so that I could be home in time for my son getting back from his Dad's. It was a lovely sunny journey home, and we were talking about nice things, like his plans for the future (getting a van and driving everywhere he wants to go) and his future travel plans (South America), and we parted on a very friendly basis. In fact, the looks he had been giving me during the weekend, and the talks we had had, and the hug that he gave me when we parted, all sort of led me to think that maybe Circus Boy was back on the scene properly.

I was unwashed, had greasy hair and matted extensions, but none of that mattered, I felt like The Business, because I had spent my weekend doing something unusual with someone I liked - who I thought might like me too.

I especially thought this when he texted the next day to say thank you and what a good time he had had, oh and had he left a box of CDs in the car? He had, so I texted I'd pop them round after work the next day (Tuesday) and would leave them round the back if he wasn't in.

Which I did. And this is my facebook status (and my replies to some comments) afterwards:

"OMG, does the boy never wear any clothes, or was he lurking in pants deliberately? And he grabbed me! Lucky I had to go to take Mum to see Dad, or my resolve may very well have gone right out the window. I am so shallow, this is definitely making me reconsider my turning down the role of on-call shag. :-O"
"And was very flustered as due to steps up to the door, when he opened it, my eyes were at crotch level."
"Haha, I swear I almost choked on my own drool! then had to try to talk sensibly while he was wanting to know about the postage costs for LED juggling skittles. I wanted to say, 'how can you expect me to have a sensible conversation when your tackle is RIGHT THERE, look, RIGHT THERE!!!!!" 
Given all this, I was fairly hopeful that I would see him fairly soon, even though I'd had to run away pretty sharpish to go to see Dad. We'd got on really well at times, and I had come back from the festivals on a real high, I'd felt absolutely wonderful, like my weekend had been worthwhile and like my life was finally getting back on track.

Unsurprisingly, at this point Circus Boy disappeared again. But not for good.....

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