She wasn't expecting that
* Today I am mostly listening to: Mark Ronson feat. Amy Winehouse – Valerie *
So I'm at the gym, more than half way through my work out, and who do I see walk in but one of my ex's *. Not He Who Must Not Be Named, thank God, but the one before him. I clocked him as soon as he walked in, and spent the rest of my work out trying to avoid him. And for some reason, I was more worried about the fact that I looked bright red & fat. Which is daft really because I've got absolutely no interest in him whatsoever (and let's face it, no interest in the male population). But there you go. You always want to look good in front of our ex, you want to show the twat what he's missing.
So anyway, I'm trying to avoid him by concentrating on my leg press thingy and doggedly listening to my new Creative Zen Stone (which is always a good excuse; "Oh, didn't see you there, I was miles away listening to my music"), and I swear he's deliberately chosen to do the chest pull thingy (that doesn't sound right but I can't remember what it's really called) right next to me. Not in my direct eye line, but close enough for me to be aware of his presence. He didn't make any effort to speak to me, but I'm pretty sure he clocked me & was making a point of trying to get my attention. I was quite disappointed to see that he hadn't gone bald & was still remarkably in shape.
But anyway, seeing him there reminded me of the time we broke up. He was a twat & there's no denying it. All of my friends were so glad we broke up, and had no hesitation in announcing that they'd all disliked him & never trusted him in the first place (thanks for telling me). We broke up because he started seeing some one else whilst he was still with me; so in other words, he was cheating on me. It should have been no surprise really. When we first got together I'd just broken up with some one & he was obviously still seeing his girlfriend. I had my suspicions that he was still seeing her, but when someone tells you that they used to fancy you at school & used to come down to the tennis courts to watch you play tennis at lunch time, what are you supposed to do? He even told me what trainers I used to wear, so I had to believe him, didn't I?
So to continue the story, there was one time when a friend and I were home from university for the weekend, and we were quite happily having a quiet drink in my local. In walks the ex with the new girlfriend, and well, as you can imagine, I was not best pleased. It was my local before it was his and here he was rubbing my face in his infidelity. Well, egged on by my mate & a few alcoholic beverages, we decided on a bit of revenge, and took the opportunity to leave a message on his car. I knew where he parked, so before we went to the kebab shop, we made a detour & left a little bit of artwork on his motor. Not using pens or paint; we used the only other thing we had with us, our keys.
Next day we're sitting round the dining table eating one of my mum's Sunday roasts, and I get a phone call accusing me of keying his car. Well, I played the innocent party, and let him know that I had no idea what he was on about, and that there were enough people in town that he'd upset over the years, so it could quite easily be any of them. My mum was all indignant, and asking how dare he accuse me of such a thing. All along me & my mate are sitting there feeling quite smug with ourselves.
The disappointing thing was that he wrote the car off a couple of months later. And it was a shame really, because I wanted him to see his keyed car every time he got into it, and be annoyed that some one had actually spoilt his pride and joy. I don't feel guilty. I just wanted him to have learnt his lesson. He only had himself to blame.
So I'm at the gym, more than half way through my work out, and who do I see walk in but one of my ex's *. Not He Who Must Not Be Named, thank God, but the one before him. I clocked him as soon as he walked in, and spent the rest of my work out trying to avoid him. And for some reason, I was more worried about the fact that I looked bright red & fat. Which is daft really because I've got absolutely no interest in him whatsoever (and let's face it, no interest in the male population). But there you go. You always want to look good in front of our ex, you want to show the twat what he's missing.
So anyway, I'm trying to avoid him by concentrating on my leg press thingy and doggedly listening to my new Creative Zen Stone (which is always a good excuse; "Oh, didn't see you there, I was miles away listening to my music"), and I swear he's deliberately chosen to do the chest pull thingy (that doesn't sound right but I can't remember what it's really called) right next to me. Not in my direct eye line, but close enough for me to be aware of his presence. He didn't make any effort to speak to me, but I'm pretty sure he clocked me & was making a point of trying to get my attention. I was quite disappointed to see that he hadn't gone bald & was still remarkably in shape.
But anyway, seeing him there reminded me of the time we broke up. He was a twat & there's no denying it. All of my friends were so glad we broke up, and had no hesitation in announcing that they'd all disliked him & never trusted him in the first place (thanks for telling me). We broke up because he started seeing some one else whilst he was still with me; so in other words, he was cheating on me. It should have been no surprise really. When we first got together I'd just broken up with some one & he was obviously still seeing his girlfriend. I had my suspicions that he was still seeing her, but when someone tells you that they used to fancy you at school & used to come down to the tennis courts to watch you play tennis at lunch time, what are you supposed to do? He even told me what trainers I used to wear, so I had to believe him, didn't I?
So to continue the story, there was one time when a friend and I were home from university for the weekend, and we were quite happily having a quiet drink in my local. In walks the ex with the new girlfriend, and well, as you can imagine, I was not best pleased. It was my local before it was his and here he was rubbing my face in his infidelity. Well, egged on by my mate & a few alcoholic beverages, we decided on a bit of revenge, and took the opportunity to leave a message on his car. I knew where he parked, so before we went to the kebab shop, we made a detour & left a little bit of artwork on his motor. Not using pens or paint; we used the only other thing we had with us, our keys.
Next day we're sitting round the dining table eating one of my mum's Sunday roasts, and I get a phone call accusing me of keying his car. Well, I played the innocent party, and let him know that I had no idea what he was on about, and that there were enough people in town that he'd upset over the years, so it could quite easily be any of them. My mum was all indignant, and asking how dare he accuse me of such a thing. All along me & my mate are sitting there feeling quite smug with ourselves.
The disappointing thing was that he wrote the car off a couple of months later. And it was a shame really, because I wanted him to see his keyed car every time he got into it, and be annoyed that some one had actually spoilt his pride and joy. I don't feel guilty. I just wanted him to have learnt his lesson. He only had himself to blame.
We didn't leave that much damage, honest * I was trying to think of a suitable pseudonym for him, but all the ones I came up with made him sound kind of nice, and he just wasn't.
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