Hi Ive been Dj'ing for well over a decade. I craft together electro, house, dubstep, break beat, hip Hop, dancehall and reggae and anything that is born of any of these genres. I love music. Ive been a resident DJ for Snowbombing for the last 6 years and have played and most snowboarding, skate and graff jams over the last decade. Its been a lot of fun. You can catch me at a number of residencies mainly around East London.
ask me anything??
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Monday, 21 December 2009
The tale (or tail) of The Crazy Plumber and the Kitten (Part II).
You would have thought that being caught out for being married whilst trying to make me some kind of extra marital hobby would have been enough to send Dick running with his tail between his legs. But no, this love rat of a plumber had different ideas. After the apology he sent (by text message), I thought nothing more of the whole thing, expecting him to just move on and continue power flushing away, while I went about enjoying the freedom of my newly found independence and the joys of my freshly acquired singledom.
However, a few weeks later, I awoke to a text message from Dick. It explained that he had a friend, an old lady and she had fallen and hurt herself and she (lets call her Fanny)was going to have an emergency hip replacement op. He went on to say that he didn't know who else to ask and so,would I consider looking after a little kitten belonging to Fanny, just for a while? I gave it some thought and realized that with my hectic lifestyle and tiny studio flat, it wouldn't be fair for a poor little kitty to be cooped up all alone.A kitten would be an inconvenience to me, I would have to come straight home after work to make sure it got fed.I replied, explaining that it just wasn't feasible. I received a reply shortly after, it said that the cat was used to being on its own for spells of time and if I couldn't help then the cat would have to be put in a home. Fanny with an injured hip would be devastated, he pleaded on adding that all expenses would be covered and that it would only be for two weeks. This was the point at which I crumbled and let the other, not so sensible voice in my head, be heard. It reasoned, you have the occasional mouse, a cat would be good fun, cute to play with and as for the poor old lady...well...I did feel so sorry for her.So, I agreed to do it just for a couple of weeks. Dick was over the moon. 'May be he's not such an asshole', I thought and admired him for helping out Fanny.
A couple of days flew by in a London minute and the Plumber and I had somehow arranged that the kitten would bought along to the vintage store where I work. Fanny was going into the hospital that day and he needed to make sure her kitten was handed over to a loving carer before she went under the knife. Once Dick had collected the kitten, he gave me a call to ask me for some details, explaining that the cat had insurance which needed to be transferred into my name while the cat was under my care. This prompted me to ask what the beast was called, to which Dick replied, "well ,you can make up a name for her can't you"? Alarm bell number one softly chimed in my head. But the other me said, ' men, they never seem to think these things are important'.So the day went on, intermittently broken up by more texts and calls from Dick, updating me on his time of arrival with the kitten, which he was gushing about with gooey enthusiasm. Finally Dick turned up laden with Fannys little kitty which was in a little grey carry box. Under his free arm was a big bag of kitty litter and a tray,food and new food bowl, shiny new toys, brand new everything!!! Alarm bell two clanged noisily about in my head. Sure enough the little cat was very cute and we took her out to play but she was very timid and just wanted to stay in her box. So off went Dick looking very pleased with himself and telling me how happy this had made Fanny. As soon as he had gone out of the door I said to my work colleague that I thought something was strange about the whole thing and made my way home with 'Little Cat' in her box.
I had the next day off work and had decided to stay at home with the cute and very timid little cat, to make sure she was ok and to make my studio more cat friendly by moving any small objects out of paws reach. My very dear friend (lets call him Rob), was over to meet 'Little Cat', (who still had no name). I told him of my suspicions, to which he replied, 'you should check it out, you were right about Dick being married'. Rob agreed that something was fishy about the kitty situation. Wondering how I could find out if there was indeed some foul play at hand I took the documents that had arrived with Dicks Pussy and had a leaf through them.
On arriving at the insurance document I was surprised to see that he had put all of my details down correctly, excepting my date of birth, which he had stated as being 1937...at this point it was like a whole church steeplefull of bell ringing bible fans was let loose in my head, causing a deafening racket of an alarm....So, I continued my search and found the vet that had issued the insurance document to Dick.I called them without delay.
The Vet confirmed that Dick had been in to get insurance and had more than likely bought the kitty from the pet shop next door, (which ironically was located on the Isle Of Dogs).The kind and concerned Vet gave me the number for the pet shop, which I called with no hesitation. I spoke to a rough sounding but warm hearted cockney lady called Karen. When I explained what had happened she stated, 'I thought there was something funny about him', 'he told me he was buying the cat for an old lady he knew who only works three days a week'. Stunned (and a bit insulted that he had pretended I was old), I thanked her and put the phone down.
Rob was as shocked as I was, not because my suspicions had been confirmed for the second time about Dick, and that there was no Fanny or hip replacement operation, but that there were people that were quite insane, like Dick, who were operating from day to day as seemingly well rounded individuals, just blending in, amongst us 'normal people'. Rob and I were working out the options, when my phone rang and I saw that the caller ID was flashing 'DICK'! So I answered. Gushing with feigned concern he inquired, "how's our little girl today?", I gagged and managed a "fine, how are you"? to which he replied "good thanks, how are you"? I then managed through a confused looking frown,"I'm fine thanks, but why did you lie to me about this cat"? A long silence as he panicked, rumbled, he tried to sound calm as he asked me "what do you mean"? At this point I began to lose my temper a bit, as the reality of the fact that I had been duped began to sink in and that even though there had been the massive lie at the beginning of our acquaintance, I had accepted his apology and yet here he was lying and manipulating at the very first opportunity he had.
So, empowered by the fact that I seen through his childish charade to ensnare me somehow, I explained with gusto, that I rang the pet shop and had spoken to Karen, who had told me of the lies he had told her and that neither of us were happy with the situation regarding Dicks irresponsible treatment of Pussy. 'Why did you do that'? He asked me. It was as though he was disappointed and he thought that even if I had known, I should have just gone along with his twisted idea of romance.
In his mind Dick was the director of a film (about his life) and he could totally disassociate from the real world.But he also expected anyone else he chose to play out a part in Dick The Movie, to be manipulated and say nothing. I berated the kitty giver sternly, all the while Rob and I shared the phone so Rob could hear how insane Dick was being. I told him that as a grown man he should know better than to tell constant fibs and lies to people in order to manipulate them into doing his will. Whatever that was.
I was flabbergasted when he asked me to give him the cat back . To which I retorted that he was incapable of taking care of a kitten, let alone himself or his wife or children and warned him to never ever come near me, my house, my boiler, or my pussy again. I haven't heard from or seen Dick since.
And that my friends is the very true and real story of how I ended up with a cat called 'LC' (Little Cat).
However, a few weeks later, I awoke to a text message from Dick. It explained that he had a friend, an old lady and she had fallen and hurt herself and she (lets call her Fanny)was going to have an emergency hip replacement op. He went on to say that he didn't know who else to ask and so,would I consider looking after a little kitten belonging to Fanny, just for a while? I gave it some thought and realized that with my hectic lifestyle and tiny studio flat, it wouldn't be fair for a poor little kitty to be cooped up all alone.A kitten would be an inconvenience to me, I would have to come straight home after work to make sure it got fed.I replied, explaining that it just wasn't feasible. I received a reply shortly after, it said that the cat was used to being on its own for spells of time and if I couldn't help then the cat would have to be put in a home. Fanny with an injured hip would be devastated, he pleaded on adding that all expenses would be covered and that it would only be for two weeks. This was the point at which I crumbled and let the other, not so sensible voice in my head, be heard. It reasoned, you have the occasional mouse, a cat would be good fun, cute to play with and as for the poor old lady...well...I did feel so sorry for her.So, I agreed to do it just for a couple of weeks. Dick was over the moon. 'May be he's not such an asshole', I thought and admired him for helping out Fanny.
A couple of days flew by in a London minute and the Plumber and I had somehow arranged that the kitten would bought along to the vintage store where I work. Fanny was going into the hospital that day and he needed to make sure her kitten was handed over to a loving carer before she went under the knife. Once Dick had collected the kitten, he gave me a call to ask me for some details, explaining that the cat had insurance which needed to be transferred into my name while the cat was under my care. This prompted me to ask what the beast was called, to which Dick replied, "well ,you can make up a name for her can't you"? Alarm bell number one softly chimed in my head. But the other me said, ' men, they never seem to think these things are important'.So the day went on, intermittently broken up by more texts and calls from Dick, updating me on his time of arrival with the kitten, which he was gushing about with gooey enthusiasm. Finally Dick turned up laden with Fannys little kitty which was in a little grey carry box. Under his free arm was a big bag of kitty litter and a tray,food and new food bowl, shiny new toys, brand new everything!!! Alarm bell two clanged noisily about in my head. Sure enough the little cat was very cute and we took her out to play but she was very timid and just wanted to stay in her box. So off went Dick looking very pleased with himself and telling me how happy this had made Fanny. As soon as he had gone out of the door I said to my work colleague that I thought something was strange about the whole thing and made my way home with 'Little Cat' in her box.
I had the next day off work and had decided to stay at home with the cute and very timid little cat, to make sure she was ok and to make my studio more cat friendly by moving any small objects out of paws reach. My very dear friend (lets call him Rob), was over to meet 'Little Cat', (who still had no name). I told him of my suspicions, to which he replied, 'you should check it out, you were right about Dick being married'. Rob agreed that something was fishy about the kitty situation. Wondering how I could find out if there was indeed some foul play at hand I took the documents that had arrived with Dicks Pussy and had a leaf through them.
On arriving at the insurance document I was surprised to see that he had put all of my details down correctly, excepting my date of birth, which he had stated as being 1937...at this point it was like a whole church steeplefull of bell ringing bible fans was let loose in my head, causing a deafening racket of an alarm....So, I continued my search and found the vet that had issued the insurance document to Dick.I called them without delay.
The Vet confirmed that Dick had been in to get insurance and had more than likely bought the kitty from the pet shop next door, (which ironically was located on the Isle Of Dogs).The kind and concerned Vet gave me the number for the pet shop, which I called with no hesitation. I spoke to a rough sounding but warm hearted cockney lady called Karen. When I explained what had happened she stated, 'I thought there was something funny about him', 'he told me he was buying the cat for an old lady he knew who only works three days a week'. Stunned (and a bit insulted that he had pretended I was old), I thanked her and put the phone down.
Rob was as shocked as I was, not because my suspicions had been confirmed for the second time about Dick, and that there was no Fanny or hip replacement operation, but that there were people that were quite insane, like Dick, who were operating from day to day as seemingly well rounded individuals, just blending in, amongst us 'normal people'. Rob and I were working out the options, when my phone rang and I saw that the caller ID was flashing 'DICK'! So I answered. Gushing with feigned concern he inquired, "how's our little girl today?", I gagged and managed a "fine, how are you"? to which he replied "good thanks, how are you"? I then managed through a confused looking frown,"I'm fine thanks, but why did you lie to me about this cat"? A long silence as he panicked, rumbled, he tried to sound calm as he asked me "what do you mean"? At this point I began to lose my temper a bit, as the reality of the fact that I had been duped began to sink in and that even though there had been the massive lie at the beginning of our acquaintance, I had accepted his apology and yet here he was lying and manipulating at the very first opportunity he had.
So, empowered by the fact that I seen through his childish charade to ensnare me somehow, I explained with gusto, that I rang the pet shop and had spoken to Karen, who had told me of the lies he had told her and that neither of us were happy with the situation regarding Dicks irresponsible treatment of Pussy. 'Why did you do that'? He asked me. It was as though he was disappointed and he thought that even if I had known, I should have just gone along with his twisted idea of romance.
In his mind Dick was the director of a film (about his life) and he could totally disassociate from the real world.But he also expected anyone else he chose to play out a part in Dick The Movie, to be manipulated and say nothing. I berated the kitty giver sternly, all the while Rob and I shared the phone so Rob could hear how insane Dick was being. I told him that as a grown man he should know better than to tell constant fibs and lies to people in order to manipulate them into doing his will. Whatever that was.
I was flabbergasted when he asked me to give him the cat back . To which I retorted that he was incapable of taking care of a kitten, let alone himself or his wife or children and warned him to never ever come near me, my house, my boiler, or my pussy again. I haven't heard from or seen Dick since.
And that my friends is the very true and real story of how I ended up with a cat called 'LC' (Little Cat).
Friday, 27 November 2009
Crazy Plumbers and Kittens
A really good friend of mine Jez begged me to start a blog after I told him this story and it seems to have made quite a few people laugh. I'm a big advocate of laughing, so I thought 'why not'? Here is the tale, (or tail), of
The Crazy Plumber and the Kitten.
I live alone in a lovely cozy little garden flat out in the wilds of Hackney East London. I DJ, and work part time in a beautiful Vintage Clothing Shop to ensure rent and bills are covered. I'm very Independent and enjoy a good social life, with a lot of friends to keep me entertained. In fact my life is exactly what I want it to be and I am very happy.
On moving into my garden flat a few problems arose concerning a very noisy boiler, it sounded like my old gym teacher was standing outside my back door, constantly blowing a whistle as loud as she could. So, I contacted the estate agents and they sent round a variety of plumbers and service engineers to try and solve the problem and they all kept saying the same thing. A 'Power Flush' was needed. Several weeks later a new plumber was appointed, who knocked on my door one day. Now remember, I live in a studio flat, so there is only one open plan room and a separate bathroom, which means I am in the same room as anyone working on my flat, hence forcing me into social situations requiring some communication, whether I feel like it or not.Promptly a lot of industrious equipment was dragged through the studio and out into the garden and the Power Flush is finally begun. The process of Power Flushing consists of noisy machines pumping out shitty water from all of the radiators and boilers servicing the block I'm living in this lasted for eight hours solid.
The next day the main boss of the company (lets call him Dick), turned up to check and finish the job.But when he switched on the boiler guess what? Of course the boiler still whistled like a referee on speed. Brilliant. Another whole day of chitty chatty and endless cups of tea and the hi jacking of my life by this stupid boiler was getting boring but Dick eventually fixed the problem and everyone is happy and relieved. But no, that would not be real life now would it? The next day at work in the vintage store I had a call from Dick telling me that the boiler for the two flats above mine is playing up and the heating and water are both only luke warm, he needs to come back and sort out the problem pronto. But because the boilers are in a cupboard in my garden, I have to be there to let him in. Straight away a small alarm bell tinkled in my head. The next day I arranged to be home so Dick could come over. I went about some chores while I waited and on going outside to the garden to hang my laundry on the line, it dawned on me to have a look at the boilers and check the thermostats for the water and the heating . I had an acute instinct that Dick might have tampered with them to gain another visit to my studio. Sure enough when I opened the boiler cupboard I had my womens intuition high fiving my sixth sense BAM!!!! Both temperature gauges were turned right down!!! So I flipped open my phone and called Dick. He answered, sounding very jovial and no wonder, he thought his plan was going accordingly. It turned out he was at the door that very second! So I answered and there he stood with a box of expensive items from a reputable confectioners, in his hands wearing a big stupid smile on his sleazy face.But at this point I was still unsure of what to do, and because I've been bought up with manners),( No one told me when NOT to use them).I invited Dick in for tea. Telling him as I trounced down the hallway, that he had had a wasted journey ,as I had discovered that he had left the gauges too low and I had simply adjusted them myself. Dick still insisted on checking anyway, (just to make his story a little more valid).
Dick and I chatted and drank tea and then chatted some more and all the while I felt as though something wasn't quite right. But for some reason I just told myself that it was some silly trust issues after a particularly bad break up from my previous relationship.Just then, my neighbour a very intriguing lady named Alsa knocked on my door. The plumber had outstayed his welcome and I hoped that inviting Alsa in for a cup of tea would encourage Dick out of the flat and on his way. . Sure enough he took the hint and saw himself out whilst Alsa and I chatted away. As soon as we heard the front door slam, I was telling Alsa all about what had been going on.
After another long day, I was exhausted. I chucked some nachos under the grill, picked a movie and slouched out in front of the TV to relax. Just after finishing my cheese fest, I smelled a burning smell...Had I left the oven on? I jumped up and crossed the room towards the kitchen to check, the smell was getting worse , I couldn't figure out where it was coming from and then all of a sudden. 'Whoosh'! The curtains were a wall of flames up to the ceiling!!!! I definitely said 'Fuck' and then about a million thoughts raced though my mind. In a flash I realized I had no choice but to get the blinds off their fastenings and so I grabbed the flaming wall and with all my might, I ripped it down and onto the floor, beating the rapidly heightening fire with my bare hands, then I grabbed the nearby rug and used that to try and cull the roaring mess. By which point, the the neighbours from the flat next door were banging down my door to see if I was OK and asked what was burning??? To which I politely cooed 'Just a minute', as I flapped about like a mad windmill. Suddenly, the furnace calmed sufficiently for me to unlock the backdoor and tear it open as I threw the fiery heap out onto the decking of my back yard where...Alsa was waiting above, hanging out of her first floor window with a bucket of water, which she duly flung out , dousing the flames and slaying the fire demon. After a lot of wafting with tea towels and a lot of frozen pea applications to my badly burnt hands, it was decided that an ambulance should be summoned and I promptly ended up in the A&E of the hospital a 30 second ride from my house. I was slathered in slimy stuff, quizzed and prodded and freshly wrapped up in big bandages with only a thumb left to indicate what I thought of the situation. It was a head trip having a house fire. So now with a few days off and thankfully no DJ gigs that weekend, I was left to my clumsy devices at home.
With both hands out of action all I could manage was watching movies and making phone calls ,so I called my big sister for a chat/gossip and some advice/gossip. My big sister, Kes, has the opposite life to mine..married, kids, nice big house and a perfect husband, she runs the happiest family life you can imagine. Kes loves to hear all my gossip about men, dates and my crazy lifestyle.
We began to chat about the Plumber. On paper he did sound good and Dick was definitely showing more than an interest in my whistling boiler. Kes said, 'he's eligible, upwardly mobile, hard working, good looking and available ask him out for a coffee'! So, I put the phone down to her and made the call. The next day Dick arrived at my door with a huge bunch of flowers and a vase to put them in. Romantic and thoughtful, (too good to be true)? We went for a our coffee date on the edge of the park and chatted about our lives and adventures as the golden brown leaves tumbled through the autumn sky. And as we sat there acting out our little tete a tete, a lightening bolt of what can only be explained as women's intuition struck me hard. A voice screamed out inside me like a howling banshee, 'OH MY GOD HE"S MARRIED'!!!!! I swiftly glanced at his wedding ring finger...no ring, no sign of a ring and no sign of an absent ring, but still, I felt sure my instincts were correct. The date ended and Dick drove me home, I could tell by the way that he parked the car he wanted to be invited in, so I made my excuses and slipped from the car , into my flat and to safety. I immediately called my sister to tell her that the date had been 'lovely/conventional'. But that I strongly suspected his status. She said, 'just ask him'.
A few days later, I arranged to meet Dick again and this time it was for an evening date. Dick met me from work, I had decided that we would go for drinks before dinner and that I, with nothing to lose, would ask him directly if he was married. We chose a cool but chilled out cocktail bar and ordered a couple of drinks he, flashed his own business credit card thinking it would impress me (it didn't) and as I tried to figure out how I could steer the conversation toward his relationship status,he lifted his drink, and lo, there it was, in all its 'eternal' glory ...his wedding ring. What a fucker!!!!
I tapped it, and asked him straight up, 'Are you married then'? To which he replied 'No, I've never been married, but I do have three kids and this ring has their names engraved inside and it doesn't fit on any other finger'. So now I knew, not only was Dick a liar...he was forgetful and stupid as well. I felt slightly confused as to what my next move should be. We went on for dinner where the conversation was all about how relationships should work, respect, honesty and communication being the things we both agreed on. (All the while I was thinking 'you are not a wolf in sheep's clothing I can clearly see your fangs'). As we were finishing our meal he finally let out with a sigh, 'I really need to change my life'. I feigned confusion, as he had just been telling me all about his successful business and his lovely kids. But I knew the bomb was about to drop.I asked him what is was that he wanted to change. To which he then explained that, he was living with the mother of his two sons and after seventeen years they had grown to hate each other and were only together out of convenience. I strained for a sympathetic face to cover my outrage!! He had strung me along for hours, when I had clearly given him a chance to lay his cards on the table before committing to a whole evening of stupid lies and fallacy. I sweetly asked him 'If you hate each other then are you sleeping in separate beds'? He said, looking uncomfortable, 'No, we still share the same bed'. Well! I stayed to finish my drink, then made my excuses saying I was tired and off home to bed, he seemed surprised and offered me a lift home, 'you've had so much to drink'! I thought and disliked him even more, but smiled sweetly and explained how much I liked to ride the bus through Hackney, alone, at night, after drinking. Testing to see if he would offer me a cab, by now the date had become just as much a game to me as it had been to him all along.
The next day I woke up to a text message from Dick. I couldn't quite believe that here was this grown up man, a father and a business owner, trying to coerce me into playing along with this make believe game called 'his life'. In the past, I might have even been drawn into his ridiculous charade, too scared of confronting a bare faced liar and too pleased that a man, any man, should pay me attention in this way . But not now, after having met a plethora men with similar mental ailments, who I had been duped by in the name of 'love', I saw Dick coming from a mile away. So I simply explained that I had thought him, (by the nature of his sweeping romantic gestures towards me), single and available, but now had realized my mistake, because he was in fact completely the opposite. Another text apologizing earnestly, explaining that he never meant to lead me along and that he would like to be friends. 'Well', I thought, 'What a lucky escape'!!! and 'Not a bad thing, to have a plumber in my contact list'.' Even if he is a mentally retarded sociopath'. And thought that was the end of that.
Nope of course not...
The next day the main boss of the company (lets call him Dick), turned up to check and finish the job.But when he switched on the boiler guess what? Of course the boiler still whistled like a referee on speed. Brilliant. Another whole day of chitty chatty and endless cups of tea and the hi jacking of my life by this stupid boiler was getting boring but Dick eventually fixed the problem and everyone is happy and relieved. But no, that would not be real life now would it? The next day at work in the vintage store I had a call from Dick telling me that the boiler for the two flats above mine is playing up and the heating and water are both only luke warm, he needs to come back and sort out the problem pronto. But because the boilers are in a cupboard in my garden, I have to be there to let him in. Straight away a small alarm bell tinkled in my head. The next day I arranged to be home so Dick could come over. I went about some chores while I waited and on going outside to the garden to hang my laundry on the line, it dawned on me to have a look at the boilers and check the thermostats for the water and the heating . I had an acute instinct that Dick might have tampered with them to gain another visit to my studio. Sure enough when I opened the boiler cupboard I had my womens intuition high fiving my sixth sense BAM!!!! Both temperature gauges were turned right down!!! So I flipped open my phone and called Dick. He answered, sounding very jovial and no wonder, he thought his plan was going accordingly. It turned out he was at the door that very second! So I answered and there he stood with a box of expensive items from a reputable confectioners, in his hands wearing a big stupid smile on his sleazy face.But at this point I was still unsure of what to do, and because I've been bought up with manners),( No one told me when NOT to use them).I invited Dick in for tea. Telling him as I trounced down the hallway, that he had had a wasted journey ,as I had discovered that he had left the gauges too low and I had simply adjusted them myself. Dick still insisted on checking anyway, (just to make his story a little more valid).
Dick and I chatted and drank tea and then chatted some more and all the while I felt as though something wasn't quite right. But for some reason I just told myself that it was some silly trust issues after a particularly bad break up from my previous relationship.Just then, my neighbour a very intriguing lady named Alsa knocked on my door. The plumber had outstayed his welcome and I hoped that inviting Alsa in for a cup of tea would encourage Dick out of the flat and on his way. . Sure enough he took the hint and saw himself out whilst Alsa and I chatted away. As soon as we heard the front door slam, I was telling Alsa all about what had been going on.
After another long day, I was exhausted. I chucked some nachos under the grill, picked a movie and slouched out in front of the TV to relax. Just after finishing my cheese fest, I smelled a burning smell...Had I left the oven on? I jumped up and crossed the room towards the kitchen to check, the smell was getting worse , I couldn't figure out where it was coming from and then all of a sudden. 'Whoosh'! The curtains were a wall of flames up to the ceiling!!!! I definitely said 'Fuck' and then about a million thoughts raced though my mind. In a flash I realized I had no choice but to get the blinds off their fastenings and so I grabbed the flaming wall and with all my might, I ripped it down and onto the floor, beating the rapidly heightening fire with my bare hands, then I grabbed the nearby rug and used that to try and cull the roaring mess. By which point, the the neighbours from the flat next door were banging down my door to see if I was OK and asked what was burning??? To which I politely cooed 'Just a minute', as I flapped about like a mad windmill. Suddenly, the furnace calmed sufficiently for me to unlock the backdoor and tear it open as I threw the fiery heap out onto the decking of my back yard where...Alsa was waiting above, hanging out of her first floor window with a bucket of water, which she duly flung out , dousing the flames and slaying the fire demon. After a lot of wafting with tea towels and a lot of frozen pea applications to my badly burnt hands, it was decided that an ambulance should be summoned and I promptly ended up in the A&E of the hospital a 30 second ride from my house. I was slathered in slimy stuff, quizzed and prodded and freshly wrapped up in big bandages with only a thumb left to indicate what I thought of the situation. It was a head trip having a house fire. So now with a few days off and thankfully no DJ gigs that weekend, I was left to my clumsy devices at home.
With both hands out of action all I could manage was watching movies and making phone calls ,so I called my big sister for a chat/gossip and some advice/gossip. My big sister, Kes, has the opposite life to mine..married, kids, nice big house and a perfect husband, she runs the happiest family life you can imagine. Kes loves to hear all my gossip about men, dates and my crazy lifestyle.
We began to chat about the Plumber. On paper he did sound good and Dick was definitely showing more than an interest in my whistling boiler. Kes said, 'he's eligible, upwardly mobile, hard working, good looking and available ask him out for a coffee'! So, I put the phone down to her and made the call. The next day Dick arrived at my door with a huge bunch of flowers and a vase to put them in. Romantic and thoughtful, (too good to be true)? We went for a our coffee date on the edge of the park and chatted about our lives and adventures as the golden brown leaves tumbled through the autumn sky. And as we sat there acting out our little tete a tete, a lightening bolt of what can only be explained as women's intuition struck me hard. A voice screamed out inside me like a howling banshee, 'OH MY GOD HE"S MARRIED'!!!!! I swiftly glanced at his wedding ring finger...no ring, no sign of a ring and no sign of an absent ring, but still, I felt sure my instincts were correct. The date ended and Dick drove me home, I could tell by the way that he parked the car he wanted to be invited in, so I made my excuses and slipped from the car , into my flat and to safety. I immediately called my sister to tell her that the date had been 'lovely/conventional'. But that I strongly suspected his status. She said, 'just ask him'.
A few days later, I arranged to meet Dick again and this time it was for an evening date. Dick met me from work, I had decided that we would go for drinks before dinner and that I, with nothing to lose, would ask him directly if he was married. We chose a cool but chilled out cocktail bar and ordered a couple of drinks he, flashed his own business credit card thinking it would impress me (it didn't) and as I tried to figure out how I could steer the conversation toward his relationship status,he lifted his drink, and lo, there it was, in all its 'eternal' glory ...his wedding ring. What a fucker!!!!
I tapped it, and asked him straight up, 'Are you married then'? To which he replied 'No, I've never been married, but I do have three kids and this ring has their names engraved inside and it doesn't fit on any other finger'. So now I knew, not only was Dick a liar...he was forgetful and stupid as well. I felt slightly confused as to what my next move should be. We went on for dinner where the conversation was all about how relationships should work, respect, honesty and communication being the things we both agreed on. (All the while I was thinking 'you are not a wolf in sheep's clothing I can clearly see your fangs'). As we were finishing our meal he finally let out with a sigh, 'I really need to change my life'. I feigned confusion, as he had just been telling me all about his successful business and his lovely kids. But I knew the bomb was about to drop.I asked him what is was that he wanted to change. To which he then explained that, he was living with the mother of his two sons and after seventeen years they had grown to hate each other and were only together out of convenience. I strained for a sympathetic face to cover my outrage!! He had strung me along for hours, when I had clearly given him a chance to lay his cards on the table before committing to a whole evening of stupid lies and fallacy. I sweetly asked him 'If you hate each other then are you sleeping in separate beds'? He said, looking uncomfortable, 'No, we still share the same bed'. Well! I stayed to finish my drink, then made my excuses saying I was tired and off home to bed, he seemed surprised and offered me a lift home, 'you've had so much to drink'! I thought and disliked him even more, but smiled sweetly and explained how much I liked to ride the bus through Hackney, alone, at night, after drinking. Testing to see if he would offer me a cab, by now the date had become just as much a game to me as it had been to him all along.
The next day I woke up to a text message from Dick. I couldn't quite believe that here was this grown up man, a father and a business owner, trying to coerce me into playing along with this make believe game called 'his life'. In the past, I might have even been drawn into his ridiculous charade, too scared of confronting a bare faced liar and too pleased that a man, any man, should pay me attention in this way . But not now, after having met a plethora men with similar mental ailments, who I had been duped by in the name of 'love', I saw Dick coming from a mile away. So I simply explained that I had thought him, (by the nature of his sweeping romantic gestures towards me), single and available, but now had realized my mistake, because he was in fact completely the opposite. Another text apologizing earnestly, explaining that he never meant to lead me along and that he would like to be friends. 'Well', I thought, 'What a lucky escape'!!! and 'Not a bad thing, to have a plumber in my contact list'.' Even if he is a mentally retarded sociopath'. And thought that was the end of that.
Nope of course not...
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