Saturday, June 20, 2009

Staying Alone And Unloved In The Gutter Of Life

Overnight, my lovely American ex-girlfriend changed her Facebook status from single to 'In a fucking Relationship', with some bloke.

He's in a moody black and white photo. Local to her. Looks pretty macho.

And she's 34.

Meanwhile, 4,000 miles away, I went out with the lads. I've been avoiding huge drinking sprees for several reasons. Top of the list is my desire to spend all my free time on my (Ha!) novel. Coming in a close second, I'm attempting to save money in a sincere attempt to avoid Debtor's Gaol. Not far behind is my general health. I'm not getting any younger, and I won't do my ageing body any favours throwing pure grain alcohol down my Pringle-hole and tarring up my lungs with nicotine.

Nonetheless, I couldn't face the abuse I was beginning to get when I hinted to said lads that I might not go. So I bypassed my bicycle and took the tube to work on Friday. I wore my suit jacket with smart shoes, a white double-cuff shirt and cufflinks, and a pair of dark, understated jeans. I felt pretty damn sexy, I have to tell you, yet felt somewhat disillusioned as I sat on the train opposite a frankly devastating blonde who point-blank refused to look anywhere near me, not even to sneer.

Work - with no lunchbreak as usual - was typically stressful. And when I left the office two pear ciders merrier, I ended up walking to Soho as rushhour trains and buses wouldn't get me there any quicker. I was dripping wet by the time I arrived, having nearly been run over by a taxi and called an idiot. My suit was stained with sweat, and my friends publicly mocked my 'Ginger Beadle' as I'd only shaved my neck again. (It itches otherwise, alright???)

I spent a chunk of my overdraft on booze, and received much abuse I've grown accustomed to; several 'Cunts', a couple of 'Morons', and an occasional 'fatso.'

And London's womenfolk couldn't have avoided me more if I'd been covered with weeping buboes and had one leg. I did pat one girl on the back as we stood outside the pub, after she had a coughing fit. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind, so I did it again ten minutes later when she hacked up again. She even smiled in return, although the men she was surrounded by shot me a several dark glares.

This made getting her number all the more difficult, but before I could even think about that, I had the far bigger hurdle of summoning up the courage in the first place. I've never had a problem talking to women when the mood takes me. My shitfest of thrills has always been entering that bewildering next stage; getting those digits, or simply doing something to indicate a desire to see a complete stranger again, in a stressful and rather less pleasant 'coffee' scenario. In many ways, I've learnt to prefer that giddying high of not repelling a new Ladyperson and leaving it at that. I'd only ruin things doing something disturbingly adult like go on a date. Jesus.

So, I woke up this morning in my stinking pit with a now uncommon sense that I'd burnt the candle and both ends as I'd rampaged through London, my wallet, and my liver. The rumours are true; Huge piss-ups with the Boys do get harder with age.

And while I'd done so, my lovely American ex-girlfriend across the pond had cemented her 'blossoming romance' and officially Facebooked her commitment to a certain Mr Finkelstein.

They'll be getting married soon. I'm pretty certain of that.

I'm not prone to quoting ageing Jewish comics with impenetrably stereotypical accents, but I once saw Jackie Mason in London, and recall this bit he did about romance. To paraphrase; "Why do people always get married at the same age? Shouldn't it be random? If it was love, why doesn't it happen at fifteen, or fifty, or seventy-two? Why is it always around your late Twenties or early Thirties when two people decide, 'You're the one!' and tie the knot?"

Ugh. Too little, too late, once again. To all the single people out there with a little daemon in their heads, Hello.


Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...


And I like that quote. Although if divorce rates are anything to go by, you have to question whether it's "love" people are feeling when they get married at 30, or pressure.

Anonymous said...

crikey... you gotta shake this off. you're literally going to implode into a big ol' black hole of despair! c'mon, fweng! we're all rooting for you... um, to shake it off, NOT turn into a black hole... although that'd be kinda interesting if it really happened...

Anonymous said...

I totally feel your pain. My ex has recently gotten together with a new woman, which left me simultaneously surprised and devastated since he and I had been talking and emailing on a regular basis; I mistakenly thought that our relationship was re-kindling, even over long distance (he’s in the UK and I’m in Australia). Unfortunately, I have already bought my plane ticket to London! I will now be wallowing in self pity in a strange city for a whole week, probably trying to fill the void by spending lots of money on clothes I don’t need. At least you found out sooner rather than later.

Ellie said...

I've got a girl for you ... but I'm not sure if I can trust you with her.

sas said...

there is something about your 'lovely' ex american girlfriend that i don't like. maybe it was that she was flirting with you enough to make you consider buying flights while obviously starting something with moody macho man.

you are better off without her if you ask me.

you have all these ladies reading your blog and waving their pom poms for you fweng. anon the aussie is on her way over and ellie has a girl for you.

take a punt!

misspeculiar said...

Fweng, I was the journalist intern who contacted you two years ago (and found out your real name to boot). Well. Ha.

I just wanted to say......... something good will come along. Yes it will yes it will yes it will. This documentation of your despair somehow gives me/perhaps us hope. Not in a sadistic way. I think it's the surety, the certainty that all this will not be for nought if we just press on. There will be some kind of vindication.

Trying to be optimistic never hurt no one.

Anyway, hello Fweng. Nice blog.

Z said...

Love can come at any age. It's just marriage that current convention believes should happen (for the first time, at any rate) around the age of thirty.

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Stay the fuck off her facebook page, daddyo. Otherwise, back up on the pony.

fwengebola said...

Jo ~ Yup. I'm afraid as I've got more older and more cynical, I've formed the opinion that love is a false constraint made believable by desperation. Yay, my miserable head.
df ~ Hmmm, Sorry. I think all this is making me needlessly introspective.
Anon ~ Oh Jesus, that fucking sucks. Rekindling, my arse. Well if you're totally fucking desperate, there are plenty of Australian bars here. Perhaps you can meet a fellow countryman and bring him home. Long distance relationships are a nightmare.
Ellie ~ You do??? And why don't you trust me? Wait, I don't trust me. Well email me anyway, particularly if you dislike this girl.
Sas ~ Naw, I'm being disingenuous to LAExG. I did hurt her, and now she's wreaking her revenge. Wait, that was too strong. She's just moved on, that's all.
I have always been quite amused at the number of women who read my blog, and the kind things they have to say, particularly when in the Real World, they see me as unbelievably crass and boorish. No idea why.
Ok, I'm gonna punt to Aussie lady and Ellie's friend. Come and get me, you're looking at a free, miserable, overweight lunch.
Misspeculiar ~ Cripes, you did? Can you refresh my memory?
Well hello again, and thank you. If there's one thing that cheers me up, it's being reminded that I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE. That always helps.
And thank you again.
Z ~ Yes, that's true. And it's a hard bugger to shift.
UB ~ I can't help it! It's like some kind of addiction. What's even worse is that I'm pretty damn sure she's privated her updates, as I've noticed a sudden cessation in all comments from her 300-or so friends in the last week.
I'm trying to avoid being paranoid, but all signs point to 'BLOCK'.

i am not your freud said...

you are back on facebook?!

my brother is 34 and single and depressed about it. at least your father doesn't put pressure on you to get married already, like mine does to my brother.

people get frustrated when they've been single for a long time. then they have a relationship and get frustrated again.

by the way, that baby on your avatar - is that you? goochie goochie

Lady Wise said...

Is it wrong that I love your blog?

Lush said...

If it's any consolation at all, I'm just going to put it out there that any dude with a 'moody black and white photo' on facebook sounds like a right douchebag to me.

Anonymous said...

Jackie Mason is definitely good for cynical hearts like yours and mine.

fwengebola said...

IANYF ~ I have a tremendously scaled down presence on fb with privacy settings up the arse this time. Plus it's the only way I can stay in regular contact with my sister. I feel bad for your brother. At least I don't get his pressure. I think you've nailed the relationship thing and yeah, that's me.
LW ~ Oh hello, and welcome. No, that's fine. I'll never cease to be amazed at the number of women who read it either.
Lush ~ I cannot possibly comment. Particularly as my ex may read that. But yes; moody and black and white. Whatever.
Anon ~ Christ, it's like being stuck in a room with one of my uncles.

luna said...

Mr Fictitious for all you know:ONE B&W pic,nd none of them together???

You need an alternative non drinking crowd.With the current lot you'll fall off the wagon every time

fwengebola said...

What's a non-drinking?