Good Matthew Bad Matthew
Well let me start with Monday. Young lovely Andrew was off to a party with a work friend of his. He was coming over to Manchester with this fella and another mate and he needed to drop off his bag at home and also he wanted to show them where he lived.
He's not out at work: he wants people to know him as him, not as the token poof and he likes the mild subterfuge involved as well so that's fair enough but he wanted me to be out of the flat when they arrived as he didn't want me to drop him in it. Now Andrew is one of those gays, and there's a lot of them about, indeed I know many, where it is apparent from the moment you meet them that they're a bender. His soft slightly effeminate voice doesn't help but nevertheless I was the one who may drop him in it so being the Good Matthew that I am I moved my pictures of the Queen, hid my copies of the Gay Times and Attitude, moved my four homosexual themed fridge magnets and made sure that all other gay items were sided and then left for the pub for half an hour.
When I returned, Andrew had been and gone. I spoke to Karen on the phone and then rung Doug and he was with Andrea and Jon so I spoke to them all. Did some washing and went to bed. Andrew didn't return all night, which drove me mad but he was partying which to some extent is fair enough but I was pissed off that he'd not let me know.
Anyway he woke me up at 06.40 - he'd not been to bed. He was as tired as hell and I was tired and pissed off and let him know I wasn't best pleased. I warned him he'd feel shit that evening as well (because if you recall from my last blog, he'd got up at 3am on Monday morning so even at this time, 7am on Tuesday he'd been awake for 28 hours. Anyhew, he went to work and I quietly seethed all day.
Last night I worked till 7pm as is my wont and popped off to town to do some shopping and I got a call from Andrew, he was getting the 8pm train. I went home, defrosted the freezer (well when when I say defrosted, I mean I got my wooden rolling pin and bashed all the ice of the metal pipes) I liberated a sinkful of ice and was very happy with the amount of space I had freed up. So me being Good Matthew, I thought to myself that my poor baby would feel like shit and so I'd meet him at the station and we could get a taxi back. So I set off and got to the station ten minutes early. The train was 23 minutes late meaning that by the time he arrived I was freezing my bollocks off. But I was nice to him even though he was so tired he could hardly even speak. We got a cab home, we had a cup of tea and a fag and went to bed at about 10pm.
Woke up this morning, Andrew was refreshed and as usual he rushed round and left at 7.50. Five minutes later I had a phone call – he’d misplaced his rail card. He’d only bought it the day before and it cost £160. I looked round and couldn’t find it. He arrived back and looked and he couldn’t find it. I was really pissed off. What a fuckwit. He rang work to say he’d be late in. I rang the railway station in case it had been handed in and tried the council in case there was a taxi lost and found. He went off to work at 8.25 with his tail between his legs resigned to the fact that he’d get the 08.54 and be 15 minutes late for work but first he’d have to get a replacement and some passport photos. I got ready and left 15 minutes later.
Got to Manchester Oxford Road station, went to get my pass and what should I find snuggled with it, Andrew’s pass … and suddenly I remembered him giving it to me at the station. Bad Matthew! I desperately tried ringing Andrew but there was no reply. I tried again and again and on the third go he answered. He was just having his pictures taken. I jumped in a taxi and got to Manchester Victoria where Andrew was a minute after his train had left. Bad Matthew. Anyway, we had a coffee. Andrew left on the 9.24 and would be 45 minutes late. I got on the 9.29 and was also 45 minutes late. Bad Matthew.
He's not out at work: he wants people to know him as him, not as the token poof and he likes the mild subterfuge involved as well so that's fair enough but he wanted me to be out of the flat when they arrived as he didn't want me to drop him in it. Now Andrew is one of those gays, and there's a lot of them about, indeed I know many, where it is apparent from the moment you meet them that they're a bender. His soft slightly effeminate voice doesn't help but nevertheless I was the one who may drop him in it so being the Good Matthew that I am I moved my pictures of the Queen, hid my copies of the Gay Times and Attitude, moved my four homosexual themed fridge magnets and made sure that all other gay items were sided and then left for the pub for half an hour.
When I returned, Andrew had been and gone. I spoke to Karen on the phone and then rung Doug and he was with Andrea and Jon so I spoke to them all. Did some washing and went to bed. Andrew didn't return all night, which drove me mad but he was partying which to some extent is fair enough but I was pissed off that he'd not let me know.
Anyway he woke me up at 06.40 - he'd not been to bed. He was as tired as hell and I was tired and pissed off and let him know I wasn't best pleased. I warned him he'd feel shit that evening as well (because if you recall from my last blog, he'd got up at 3am on Monday morning so even at this time, 7am on Tuesday he'd been awake for 28 hours. Anyhew, he went to work and I quietly seethed all day.
Last night I worked till 7pm as is my wont and popped off to town to do some shopping and I got a call from Andrew, he was getting the 8pm train. I went home, defrosted the freezer (well when when I say defrosted, I mean I got my wooden rolling pin and bashed all the ice of the metal pipes) I liberated a sinkful of ice and was very happy with the amount of space I had freed up. So me being Good Matthew, I thought to myself that my poor baby would feel like shit and so I'd meet him at the station and we could get a taxi back. So I set off and got to the station ten minutes early. The train was 23 minutes late meaning that by the time he arrived I was freezing my bollocks off. But I was nice to him even though he was so tired he could hardly even speak. We got a cab home, we had a cup of tea and a fag and went to bed at about 10pm.
Woke up this morning, Andrew was refreshed and as usual he rushed round and left at 7.50. Five minutes later I had a phone call – he’d misplaced his rail card. He’d only bought it the day before and it cost £160. I looked round and couldn’t find it. He arrived back and looked and he couldn’t find it. I was really pissed off. What a fuckwit. He rang work to say he’d be late in. I rang the railway station in case it had been handed in and tried the council in case there was a taxi lost and found. He went off to work at 8.25 with his tail between his legs resigned to the fact that he’d get the 08.54 and be 15 minutes late for work but first he’d have to get a replacement and some passport photos. I got ready and left 15 minutes later.
Got to Manchester Oxford Road station, went to get my pass and what should I find snuggled with it, Andrew’s pass … and suddenly I remembered him giving it to me at the station. Bad Matthew! I desperately tried ringing Andrew but there was no reply. I tried again and again and on the third go he answered. He was just having his pictures taken. I jumped in a taxi and got to Manchester Victoria where Andrew was a minute after his train had left. Bad Matthew. Anyway, we had a coffee. Andrew left on the 9.24 and would be 45 minutes late. I got on the 9.29 and was also 45 minutes late. Bad Matthew.
posted by Matt @ 10:06 AM
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