Have been waiting for Giles all morning to arrive for the Monday meeting. The Intern said that he texted her saying he’d be late. I hate when people are late but don’t give you a time, because I can’t really get stuck into my work because as soon as I do, he’ll turn up.
So, may as well use this as an opportunity to get you caught up on the worst triple date ever.
Friday night I get home and Candy flings the door open to her flat as I come up the landing. She openly tells me that she’s disappointed as she thought I was Katie, but that I’d do in a pinch. She drags me inside and holds up three tiny dresses that were clearly made for someone twenty years younger, and asks me which she should wear for her date.
I shrug and point to a blue one that was kind of cute. Off the shoulder, knee length but slit up the back. Would look good with her fake tan and dark hair actually.
She holds it to herself and looks in a mirror. She then says that she can’t really tell without putting it on and she slips off her clothes and puts on her dress. I must admit, I was a bit jealous. This woman is old enough to be my mum, and she’s got a better body than I’ve ever had. And, I thought she was all plastic surgery, but I think she’s actually just fit. Which kind of makes me hate her more.
Looking at herself in the mirror she flashes a duck face, laughs at herself as if she’s practicing being jovial, then she spins around and says that HP and I should join her. I honestly could not think of anything I wanted to do less. I had no desire to spend the evening sitting at a table watching two men (one of whom is be my boyfriend) fawn all over another woman while I sit there picking at breadsticks.
Right at this moment Katie comes in, Candy then tells her – doesn’t ask her – tells her, that we’re all going out: Candy and her man, HP and I, and Katie and BanksyWannaBe.
Katie doesn’t bat an eyelash, she just says ‘Okay’, asks for the time and the place, texts BanksyWannaBe and before I know it, I’m scheduled for the worse evening of my life.
Now, this is the sort of thing that HP usually hates. I mean, he will run a mile to not go on group dates to restaurants. So, I went across the landing to our flat prepared for him to be our wonderful excuse to not go, but I was disappointed.
‘Yeah. Sounds good.’ That was all he said.
Skip ahead an hour and a half and we were sitting in Candy’s flat waiting for BanksyWannaBe to turn up, and then head over to the restaurant, when it dawned on me that I had lied to HP via omission about how I reconnected with Intern2. HP knew nothing about the artsy photos stuff. I was going to be in the shit if I didn’t think fast.
I grabbed Katie and Candy and asked them to come over to my flat with me, I needed them to help me with my hair. I told them that I quickly wanted to put it up. In the flat, and away from HP, I told them my situation.
Candy was way too into keeping my secret. Shit, now she had something to hold over my head. Not that she indicated that she would, but despite dating a new ‘dishy’ hunk (I have no idea what this guy looks like. If you’ll remember, she showed me a photo, but I was too busy snooping on her phone to look at him) she’s still incessantly flirting with my boyfriend. So, maybe this wasn’t the best idea.
As for Katie, she was having none of it.
‘I’m not telling keeping a stupid secret like that. I am not embarrassed of my boyfriend’s artistic work,’ is what she said.
‘Boyfriend. You’ve known him for like a week. And just because he thinks he’s Banksy…’
She cut me off, that he was nothing like Banksy. He was better than Banksy. ‘Banksy ‘just spray-paints on walls in the night. That’s a vandal. My boyfriend is a talented guerrilla artist whose genius is recognised as a collective force. He mixes installation and performance with political satire…’
Holy shit, it was my turn to interrupt her. ‘Are you reading from an art review? Has he written that down for you to repeat?’ I said back.
‘I’m telling your boyfriend that you took nude photos’, and she stormed out my flat and over to Candy’s.
Chasing after her I tried to tackle her as she crossed into the lounge where HP was sitting, but as I did she screamed, ‘Your girlfriend let my boyfriend take art photos of her with no clothes on.’
HP just raised his eyebrows.
I explained. He was quiet and said nothing. Candy tried to come to my defence, but he just took a sip of wine and said, ‘We’ll talk about it later.’
Just then, Candy got a text. It was her Dishy man cancelling. He’s divorced with two kids, and his ex-wife was supposed to have the kids that weekend. But she had to cancel at the last minute. So, he wasn’t able to come.
I suggested we just call it a night, but Katie was mad that her boyfriend was coming all the way to Dundee for us to cancel. So, Candy suggested we keep the reservation anyway and just go as a party of five instead of a party of six.
Here’s how dinner went. Me picking at breadsticks. HP and Candy talking about gaming, work, everything under the sun while she lightly touched his arm and laughed in that way she had been practicing earlier. Oh, and BanksyWannaBe (who will from now on will be known as BWB for sake of brevity) looking incredibly bored, spouting off about being a vegan, and how he doesn’t normally do ‘socially constructed activities like “going to restaurants”’ (he actually used air quotes), but that on occasion he ‘needs to partake so that he can understand the masses.’ Fucking pretentious twat!
Once home all HP had to say was, ‘I’m not disappointed about what you did, I’m disappointed that you felt you needed to lie to me.’ Then he went to bed.
Fucking fuck. That’s the sort of line I’m supposed to use. It’s not supposed to be thrown at me. And it’s not the sort of argument you can win either. No matter how much I try to justify the lie to him, he’ll just keep throwing back in my face that I lied. And, I can’t even say, ‘But you’re keeping a secret from me’ because I’m not even supposed to know that he has a secret. Although, if I was going to bring it up, then would be the time. But I also really didn’t want to have that sort of argument. I have a secret. He has a secret. This is so not good, and I’m not ready to deal with that.
On Saturday a new Apple store was opening in Edinburgh, and HP wanted one of those ginormous iPhone 6s, and he and Candy went down to have a nosey and buy one. I decided to go with them as I felt like I needed to put a little effort into HP and I’s relationship, and at this point Candy has a better relationship with him than I do. Although, the whole thing was pointless. Candy decided to drive, and Edinburgh traffic is ridiculous. By the time we got through the city and parked, it was two hours after the store opened. The place was mobbed, there were barricades for the queues to get in and buy a phone. At one point, I heard someone say that there were 1000 people in the queue. I was bored, HP and Candy were in heaven, and I wanted to go home.
I texted Hubby to see if he wanted to meet me somewhere, but he and Intern2 were with his family for the day. So, that was me. Bored in a never ending line watching my neighbour flirt with my boyfriend.
Then, it got worse. I heard ‘Lit2’ yelled from the street. It was fucking Patch. I completely forgot he lives in Edinburgh. He stopped to chat. Actually, he didn’t chat. He stopped to tell me how he was on his way to pick up one child from toddler drama classes and then join his wife and other kids at a birthday party, because, ‘That’s what I do. I’m a dad.’ Then he pulls out his phone, shows Candy pictures of his kids. Says that his wife is a ‘knockout and a ball buster, she’s what all men need.’ Then he ribs HP and says, ‘Am I right?’
HP shrugs. Patch then says, ‘Doing my duty today, to keep the boss quiet tomorrow. I’m hitting the course. Just a few rounds with the boys.’ Then he ribs HP again and says, ‘They need their spa day we need our golf.’
HP shrugs and Patch walks off waving over his shoulder and saying, ‘We must get together for a round old boy. We must. I’ve got a set of clubs to die for.’
HP shrugs then says, ‘What a twat’ under his breath.
That was the best thing that happened all day.