Tuesday, 30 November 2010


Friday Friday Friday.

I went to work, had some pretty successful lessons with the kids, English Club in particular. I’ve decided to stop running it to any sort of plan, they have to come with ideas of what to talk about, and we just chat. One of them asked to talk about family to reinforce what they’d been learning in lessons last week, and so we chatted about our families for an hour solid. One of my students told me that her father has 18 brothers and five sisters. I was sure she was lying until she told me that her father had several step-mothers. And I thought my 26 cousins was an impressive feat.

Friday night, I stayed in with The Third Party trying to watch Harry Potter but we only got as far as the third one, in between a Lidl tip and him talking over all of the films, and pre-warning me every time something was about to happen.

Saturday, The Third Party went home and the plan was to clean my flat and go out for a while before meeting Louise to head into Paris. I didn’t do any of this before meeting Louise to head into Paris. Good effort.

Everything was a bit boring, until The Third Party turned up determined to fall out with us.

Takes the wrong exit for the cinema then doesn’t listen to instructions on how to get to the right place, instead moaning and stressing at me over the phone. Moans about the choices of bars we are visiting that night, not that he is under any obligation to come with us at all. Says he’s going home because we “fucking scrutinise everything he says” when we tell him that if he wants us to go to different bars, he has to do a bit of research and find places for us to go – it’s not up to us to please him. Bitches some more when we don’t care if he goes home or not.

I went to the toilet before the film started (oh, we were at the cinema watching the new Harry Potter film by the way) and he had shut up when I came back, so I thought that might have been the end of it. He came out to the bars we were going to, and even apologised for being out of order at the cinema.

The second this apology was accepted, he started again.

Bitching because he wanted to go home. Bitching because this was boring. He was sat there doing nothing, that’s why he was bored. I was sat there doing nothing but I was perfectly happy doing a spot of people-watching, but this didn’t seem to please him. Instead he’s asking my type, trying to get me to try and pull one of the numerous OLD PEOPLE in this bar. Moaning again because I had a better beer glass than him (wtf??). Bitching that he’s still bored. We go to pay to leave, to please him, and he’s still bitching. Come on Sam, we’re going NOW! The other bar is across the road. I can find it. But we’re going now! But I haven’t paid. Yeah but we’re going now. Go, I’ll find you in there once I’ve paid. 

He goes outside and I hand my money over, he comes back in moaning. Have you paid yet? Yeah I’m waiting for my change. But we’re going now. But I know where the bar is, it’s across the road, I can find it. I’m not leaving without my change (it was 25€, before you start thinking I’m a cheapskate). Ok see you in there. I got my change and he’s outside the bar talking to a couple of girls. I go across the road and wait for them, Louise joins me first and we head over to the bar to be refused entry.


Because he said so.

Because the manager had told him no. He didn’t know why.

We eventually found out that it was apparently because The Third Party had been too drunk on an earlier occasion and they did not want him in again.

We thought this was bollocks, but managed to find a compromise that if he stopped drinking now in the first bar, the barmaid would get him into the second bar. He starts again.

I feel so ashamed that I’ve ruined your night.
But you haven’t, we’re still getting in as long as you stop drinking now.
But it’s so embarrassing, that it’s my fault you two can’t get in.
No, The Third Party, he said no to all of us before you even got there.
Yeah but I’m so embarrassed, even though it’s not my fault I’m still so embarrassed.
The Third Party, shut up. It’s not all about you. You weren’t the only one pissed last week, they’re making up excuses probably because you’re a guy.
Is that why? Because I’m a guy?
Maybe, I don’t know.
Is the bouncer gay?
I don’t know.
Is he gay though?
I don’t know. 

The “conversation” continued like this until Louise piped up and said something along the lines of “Look. Shut up. This world does not revolve around you, it is not all about you. Shut up moaning, we’ve been told we can get in if you stop drinking so shut up and wait for the lady to finish work so she can take us over there.
A few moments of sulking later, The Third Party pipes up with;

“Do you have anything sharp?”


An argument ensued about how he was an idiot who should really just shut up, and either cheer up or go home. He sulks some more, before storming out of the bar.

Oh, he’s chosen to go home then? Fair enough.

Five minutes later, my phone rings. I ignore it, he’s pissed me off tonight and he’ll only be attention seeking anyway.

15 minutes after this, he storms back in, telling me and Louise that we are both complete C-words. Honestly could have punched him. Really don’t know how I kept my temper. Louise tried to calm the situation, but I felt that the damage was already done. No way was I going to let that pass for the sake of getting him into a bar. I’d rather go home early and hold a grudge.

The barmaid comes along, and tells us that the manager (of both bars) feels that The Third Party is still too drunk and that me and Louise can get into the other place but only if The Third Party is not with us. He invites us to send him home.

Go home.

Smugly, he informs us that he doesn’t know the way (expecting me to say ok stay out let’s all go home together)

I gave him directions to the bus stop.
He flipped.

“I thought you were better than that! This is the end of us!”

Definitely the end of my putting up with you not letting me get a word in edgeways every time we meet, definitely the end of my letting you stay in my flat only for you to make my hangover worse by commencing your bitching the second everyone’s awake (on one occasion COMING INTO MY ROOM AND WAKING ME UP SO THAT YOU COULD DO SO), definitely the end of my trying to understand why you are such an attention seeking little bitch. Good luck in life.

After this, we actually had a really nice night. Well. Apart from the gender ambiguous 50something that was pressing her hips into my backside and saying “ça vaaaaaa?” in the most frighteningly deep voice I have ever heard. Oh, and the slightly crazy middle-aged woman in the next place who was trying to dance with me one minute, spilling my drink on my sleeve and wiping the “drink” off of my chest all too enthusiastically the next, then going and getting off with her girlfriend, then coming up behind me at the bar trying to kiss my neck and touch me inappropriately. Can’t I just have a quiet drink?

More 4am Italian, got invited to a gay wedding then had a horrendous time trying to get home when the doors on the first train broke.

Spent Sunday in the usual manner, food, chilling and reminiscing over the night before, minus The Third Party. It felt nice for the pair of us to actually be able to speak to each other.

Monday and Tuesday have been fairly uneventful days, with essay planning taking up a chunk of my spare time, along with feeling slightly ill and showing a video of Kevin the Teenager to my 3ème class this morning. Oh, and a mini-fright when my lecturer caused some confusion over the deadline of my resit essay for the unit I failed last year.

I’m so tired.

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