Crazy days

Dear Diary,

Naturally, you may be wondering, what on earth in my life could possibly have been crazy. Well, I shall tell you. One word - Saturday. (And no, I had no discernable Valentine - but damn, I had so much fun I didn't even care)

Had quite possibly the single most fantastic Saturday ever. Woke up late, dossed around for a while, had a very satisfying session at the gym (I still cannot fathom why I'm saying that as if it's normal), had a lovely shower, and read "Friends like these" by Danny Wallace (the original Yes Man) whilst eating a PRAWN CURRY. This was fucking BRILLIANT!! What could possibly make my Saturday better?

Oh yes. The shift at Marie's pub (The Trees). Arrived at 5, all fresh-faced, made-up and chipper. Had a quick initiation, courtesey of Julie, and then was basically left to it. We hung out and chatted for ages, occasionally serving someone. I discovered that she has the most infectious laugh EVER. And that Gaz keeps asking after me.

GAZ: SUM UP - Funny scouse bloke with slightly dubious criminal record, whose caravan I went back and shagged him in. Owner of grey tooth and no toilet.

Despite all that, I did feel slightly warm inside at the thought that he'd been asking for me. Until she told me how ridiculously (but not aggressively) drunk he usually gets, one night he full-on fell asleep right on the bar - and that the other night he was CRYING, in between saying how much he likes me. Jesus!

A) That's got to be the 3rd guy who's allegedly cried over me - what the fuck do they think I am? Some kind of goddess??
B) I'm really, really hoping he was pissed and sentimental about something else, and just happened to mention me as an afterthought.


Things didn't really pick up till about 9, and by then Rebecca had arrived and jumped on with me. Oh my god, it was absolutely AMAZING. The DJ was playing, the pub was PACKED (after 3 hours of boredom and inactivity) - and most importantly, I WAS HAVING AN ABSOLUTE BALL. Took to the new bar straight away, figured out the till easily, and where everything was, we were CONSTANTLY kept busy and I loved every SECOND of it.

Not to mention about 87% of the young, male, punters were absolutely fine-arse. So I chatted and flirted away, serving, staying constantly on my toes and always making time to have a little natter with people. For some unknown reason I started using the words "mate" or "love" all the time when serving - which I've never done before. Perhaps my natural guard was down, due to the lack of perving old men, perhaps the sheer darn friendliness of the place made me internally become an authentic barmaid - who knows?

Marie came in with TwatBoyfriend, who I naturally served with a very frosty yet civil demeanour and a hot pint glass. Well, it had just come out the dishwasher, and I simply COULDN'T reach the colder glasses....... (*evil laugh*) Was very surprised to see them together, given how much she's bitched about him recently/all the goddamn livelong day. Not to mention she'd gone to all the effort of straightening her hair, wearing a short black dress with beautiful matching heels and bag, and looked simply stunning. Christ knows why she thought that prick-tard deserved to have someone looking as lovely as her on his arm. They were apparently off out for a Valentine meal after a few drinks - guess he took the hint about never treating her or taking her out anywhere, or even acknowledging her as his girlfriend. Felt a slight twinge of jealousy that she had someone - before realising I'd rather be single than go out with that dick-face anyway.

Anyway. The night soon ended at 1am - for some reason that 8 hour shift had gone about 20 times quicker than my average 4-hour ones at the original pub. Julie gave me half a cider and black, a glass of white wine AND a Corona stark-bollock FREE after Last Orders. When met with my extreme gratitude and bafflement, she came out with this:

J: "Kat, I've been watching you tonight. And every single time I looked at you behind that bar, you had a smile on your face. You were constantly dancing to the music, always stopping to chat to people, always joking and having fun - but still serving at the same time. And that's what people like in here - I've about about 3 punters come up to me tonight and tell me how nice they think you are."
K: "Wow...."
J: "It's true. You just seem so happy to be here, and people LOVE that. You've got a natural rapport with folk, and that's what they come to a place like this for. Have you enjoyed it tonight?"
K: "Oh my god, absolutely! I've had a wicked time!"
J: "Awwwww..... thanks for coming in, love!"
K: "It was an absolute pleasure - thank YOU for having me!...... OK, that was corny thing to say, but STILL.......!""

At that point we exploded in a fit of unbridled gayness and started hugging each other madly. And then she asked me if 'd like to come back and work for her. My reaction looked something like this:







Seriously - I even leaped and everything. I think my scream was heard several counties away. Anyway, she's gonna ring me when she has some more shifts. This is BRILLIANT!!! Maybe everything's gonna work out after all! I can go to the gym and have a job and realise my dream of moving to Paris for 6 months! I'm back, baby, the bitch is BACK!!!

As always, things descended into an enormous lock-in. Fags were lit, everyone was chatting, me and another girl competed in a "Crab-Off" (which was basically seeing who could walk the furthest in Crab position. I won), the good times were rolling. Except when Jack kept coming and sitting next to me, and flirting loads.

JACK: SUM UP - The fat guy I slept with on January the 30th who had a small dick, lived with his parents, and snored enough to send me running out the house before he even woke.

Wow, I've just read those two sum-ups back. I really don't value myself much, do I? (*Sigh*)

So, after a while, I got up to ring a taxi. Except he followed me. Eeeep. Stood in the secluded area between the 2 toilets, I booked a cab whilst he stood next to me, staring, and after I hung up triumphantly, had the following conversation:

K: "Sorry, am I in your way or something?"
J: "No, no, it's just...."
K: "Oh, OK...." (*goes to walk off*)
J: "You can stay at my gaff tonight, you know."
K: "I..... what?"
J: "At mine. If you're having a good time, you don't have to go home."
K: "Ummmm...."
J: "You can stay at mine."
K: "Crikey. Nah, best not, your mum won't be too pleased, eh?"
J: "Fuck it, doesn't matter."
K: "Yeah, but it's my dad's birthday tomorrow, I should be there...."
J: "Aw, no, stay at mine! I don't mind, you know!"
K: "Well, that's very good of you...."
J: "So, you coming then?"
K: "Jack..... no, I just.... I just TOLD you, I've got to go home..... You just saw me book a taxi!"

(*Awkward Pause. I try to scurry past, as he leans in towards me*)

K: "Thanks anyway!" (*Ducks by and runs like the wind*)

Yikes. Marie could not stop laughing when I told her. Oh well, at least I'm not "going out with" (I use the term loosely) an absolute AssHat who takes me for granted and treats me like shit, except when he wants a booty call. Hmmm..... Anyway, she claims he really like me (Jack, that is, not AssHat) and that it's "so sweet." Urrrrrgh - why do friends DO THIS??? It was EXACTLY the same with Matt the pothead at uni..... NO-ONE could see what a creepy, freaky, over-sensitive knob-lord he was, they simply set me up with him, and claimed that it was "really sweet" that he was so keen on me - even after he threatened to jump off the building having heard me drunkenly complaining about him to Leanne. Ugh, ugh, ugh. And now I've got this.

How on earth could I tell him the truth - "You were a one-night stand, plain and simple. And a shit one at that, not even one of the 3 I actually ENJOYED. You need to face facts, I only liked you that one night because I was pissed off my 36F tits, and you were THERE, but I never want to have sex with you again, on account of your baby-dick. You can't make roast dinner with a chipolata, do you know what I'm saying?"

I can't believe I just wrote that. That was pretty harsh. And I'm not for a second suggesting you CAN'T have a lovely and fulfilling sex life with a small penis, it's just...... not for me. Sadly, Marie claims that he's always asking after me and that he "really likes me." Hold up - what on EARTH happened to men being the one's who want one-night stands and to fuck anything they can, and women being the emotional "I want a relationship" types?? Nature has been turned on it's ARSE. Grr..... I suppose actions DO have consequences after all. Who'd have thought it?

Anyway, my taxi soon came and I got the frick out of there.

Today was fairly nondescript. It was Dad's birthday - so we celebrated by going to a friend's for a meal - which was GORGEOUS. Not much to say, really. I encountered Glayva for the 2nd time in my life. Mum and Dad got massively drunk. Oh, and Oli texted me - remember, from ages ago? The one I figured out was just not that into me? Well, got a text from him tonight asking how I was "cos he'd not heard from me in ages." As if it was ME that fricking didn't reply. The cheeky bastard. Replied, anyway. Let's see him debate that.

He'd better not put me through all that SMS-prick-teasing again. I've had enough of stilted text conversations without even the question of dinner (or sex) at the end of it. Really, really wish we didn't live in such a constricted society and I could just text saying; "Look, either stop wasting your time and my credit, or give me a date and a place to be, and bring some balloons and jelly, 'cos we are gonna have a fucking PARTAAAAAY!"
Well, except I hate jelly and am utterly TERRIFIED of balloons.
But you know what I mean.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Current Mood: sleepy and a tad tipsy
Current Music: "Just Dance" - Lady Gaga