Monday, December 06, 2004

Being second best

You wouldn't believe it but I found Ross. Yes. The Ross of the stories. After twenty odd years. Amazing! How did I do it?
Well in an idle moment I just typed his name into google, and up he came. So I sent him an Email and got a reply. A short reply. A very short reply.
"You found me. How? My telephone number 01*** ***555."
I Might give him a call. But then maybe it's best to let sleeping dogs lie.

Saturday night we went to see Tony and his new band, Unlimited. My Roadie was not keen. In fact she was dead against it. In fact one hundred yards down the road she told me to go by myself. What?
"What are you going to do?"
"Pack my bags and go home."
"OH no you aren't going to try that feminine blackmail trick on me. If there's a problem we'll solve it, but I'm not going to stand for these mental games."
She suddenly changed tack. "I know you really want to see Tony. It's important to you. So I'll come with you."
"Are you sure? We can go somewhere else."
"No you are determined to see Tony."
"We don't have to if it's going to upset you."
"No. I'll go."
So we went.Tonys band was much better than I thought it would be considering they haven't rehearsed that much and it was their very first gig. We left after a while and came home. On the way back Roadie said "I don't know how you can do that."
"Do what?"
"Stay friends with Tony."
"I can't believe you have a problem. No one else has a problem with it. Least of all me."
"Well you should have a problem with it. A big problem."
"Well I don't, my life is too short to hold grudges."
"Well it's pathetic."
"Hang on, this sounds like you think I'm less of a man than I should be in your eyes."
"If you want."
We walked on in silence. I began thinking do I want to be with some one who thinks I'm pathetic because I wont hate some one, because I don't run around exacting dreadful revenge. Maybe I'll help her pack her bags even carry them to her car and say Hasta la Vista. Thanks for being so understanding. But the moment passed and we started talking again. But even so comments like that don't just go away.

You may remember that I had a friend M who was being stalked by a pub landlord, well the police got involved eventually and for one reason or another she dropped the charges. Then damn me if another of my friends J turned up at the music club with the same pub landlord. Now she is a good friend of mine, nothing has ever happened between us, we're just friends. Well she came to speak to me and tell me she had started working for him, very quietly I warned her about him, I told her to be very careful and think twice about getting involved with this guy. Just a friendly piece of advice. She went back to the pub landlord and he said "What were you two talking about?"
She told him. Fuck. I couldn't believe it. You try and help a friend out and they stab you in the back. Ever since the Pub landlord has been on my case. I've played in his pub a few times.
Last Tuesday J phoned me.
"You haven't called me in weeks."
"No. Are you surprised?"
"Have I upset you or something?"
"Apart from stabbing me in the back?"
She knew what I was upset about. "I just told him what you had said. He asked and I told him."
"After all I've done for you........."
"It was nothing."
She hung up. She sounded close to tears, but I didn't give a shit.
Friday my brother went to the bank. he came back and said "I saw your friend J at the bank. She's left the pub she was working at something to do with the landlord harrassing her."
Well that's a big surprise.
Then Saturday the same pub landlord phoned me "About my supposed reputation......."
I need this like a hole in the head.
The lesson is don't get involved. If you find someone bleeding in the gutter walk on. If your best friend is hangin by a thread over the pit of oblivion leave em to it. Yeah as if...................

I suppose you're waiting for the bit where I give you a choice of stories to vote on. It aint gonna happen. My old PC where all the stories are kept is rapidly going toward landfill. The A drive is fucked, the CD writer is fucked, and now the monitor is fucked. SO I can't access the stories.

Meanwhile........... Cling Eastwood was on TV last night. I had a girlfriend who drooled over Clint Eastwood. She collected all his films on video and proclaimed him to be her ideal man. Another girl friend drooled over Steve McQueen. My Helene had this thing about a guy on TV who was probably the ugliest guy on film. Thickset, very gallic, dark hair, very gruff voice
overweight and probably had bad breath. She would tell me that he was lovely, a beautiful man, he did things for her.
Hang on wasn't it me who is supposed to be doing things for her? Aren't I supposed to be the love of her life? If so why is she drooling over this ape of a man who is so Neanderthal, he can't string more than two words together. If this guy is her perfect man what does that make me? Second best?
My ex-wife would go gooey over Bergerac (John Nettles) oh and Trevor Eve. OK I don't drive a vintage car and I don't get invited to evening soirées where someone gets murdered. I don't wear a poncho and say "Make my day punk." I am not all muscle, in fact I'm pretty thin and weedy. I'm not dark and mysterious, I'm fair (now grey) haired and what you see is what you get. I can't imagine myself being any girls fantasy object. So what's going on? I asked "Well if I can't have Clint Eastwood or Steve McQueen you'll have to do. Oh yeah and you make great breakfast in bed on a Sunday morning."
So fuck you Clint Eastwood. I do a mean breakfast in bed. And where will you be John Nettles, when the bin needs emptying? Swanning around in your fucking vintage car. And that grunting French twat......... I bet he'd take all the covers.

iPod now playing - shine on you crazy diamond by Pink Floyd


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