Let's Pretend

I keep on changing my mind about older man. This weekend was a pretty full-on older man experience, beginning at five on Friday when we met in the pub. We spent all of Saturday together, and it was really quite pleasant. He wasn't too annoying, and even if I did have to pay for lunch because once again he is skint, he bought a Rioja on the way home, and we sat around, listened to my new Charlotte Gainsbourg CD, played Scrabble, and watched Eric Rohmer movies. A perfectly pleasant way to spend a Saturday evening, and I fell into a state of sleepy relaxtion and felt quite content. I had definitely melted by the time I made us a quiche and allowed myself to have the "what would we name our babies?" conversation (they are keeping my surname, unless they are boys. With boys, I really don't care at all). Basically, I was playacting "being in a relationship" and at certain moments, it suits me - and is nothing really to do with the person who is on the receiving end of my playacting. It is more like I'm still at playgroup and doing let's pretend, with a little boy who is suitable simply because he is there outside my Wendy house (without the sexual dynamics at that age, obviously!) On Sunday, however, I woke up and my mind had shifted. I rushed out for an early brunch with the girls, before meeting older man at three to be picked up by his brother-in-law and go to his sister's house for Sunday tea. I met his Mum, his sister, his brother-in-law, his cousin, his niece (16) and his nephews (7 and 5). It was fine, unremarkable even: I chatted to his Mum about bowls, his sister about Australia (she lived in Sydney), his niece about GCSE coursework and his nephew (who was deadly cute, and asked me straight out if I was going to marry older man, much to our general amusement) about Dr. Who and birthday presents. On the way home, older man lent over to me and said "You should be proud of yourself. You can mix with an ordinary working class Belfast family". What did he think I was going to do?! Anyway, for all that they may be 'working class' in origin, I would question that assessment now - a nice house with a big garden, three kids, two cars... there is a certain 'upward mobility' perhaps? His sister dropped older man and I at Stranmillis roundabout, so I suggested a quick pint at Cutters before home. As I walked along, Bristol J called me to say she had split up from her boyfriend. I handed over my purse to older man, told him to get us a couple of pints, and plonked myself down on a bench in the pub garden to carry on talking to J. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up, and there, smiling at me, was Saab man. "Don't let me interrupt, but come over for a chat when you're done, " he smiled.
Older man came back out with two pints. I was still on the phone. "Let me talk to her" he said. "I can give her the benefit of male wisdom." "No, "said J on the other end of the phone. Although he was trying to be nice, the arrogance behind this statement got to me. He has met J once, and she found him peculiar (he talked to her non stop about William Golding novels). Why on earth would she rather talk to him than me, her friend that she has rung up??? He then nagged me to let members of the girls become his friends on facebook! Why does he need to infiltrate my life in this way which is quite frankly creepy? After I hung up, he pulled a face. "You've not got any money in your wallet, and you said you did." I was puzzled. "I have some cash." I opened my purse, and there gleeming away were six pound coins. "Oh" he said, "I thought you had a note. I thought we (!!!!!) had more cash than this. It really is just a pint then. Oh, and can you pay me back for the one I just bought you?" Saab man caught my eye again, and I excused myself and went over to chat to him. I felt my spirits lift as he introduced me to his friends as "the girl I met on the plane" and they all smiled knowingly. The girls he was with looked pretty and trendy and slim, but I didn't feel too intimidated. "Let me buy you a drink," said Saab man, "to make up for being such a lazy eejit and not getting in touch." We chatted some more, until Saab man pointed out that older man was waving at me, and I made my excuses. Through the evening, older man kept on hugging me and kissing me. He began to get soppy and needy. "But I'm a good nice person. I will protect you. Nothing bad will happen to you while you are with me." I was upset I hadn't been invited to a party where some of my friends were, and he kept on saying "but I'm your friend, I love you, I'm a good person, my judgement is more important." I couldn't help comparing Saab man, sat at a bench a few feet away, twinkle in his eye, chatting away, waving at me occasionally, with older man, who while he was saying sweet things, was quite frankly beginning to bore me. I'm sure if the right person was saying these things it would be adorable, but it began now to get faintly irritating. We went home. The dirty dishes from the quiche were still in the sink. As I cooked it, older man had promised to wash up. "I'll do it tomorrow," he said. "When tomorrow" I thought. I filled the sink with hot water and began to wash up, and he sat eating a bowl of cereal and reading. I thought of my friends at the cool party to which I hadn't been invited. I thought of Saab man sitting in the pub garden with his mates. And I knew in my heart of hearts that I would rather be with any of them than there in my flat. I didn't want to play Let's Pretend anymore. I know I must seem fickle and changeable to older man, but it is just that at times, it's my favourite game to play - it makes me feel content and secure. And then other times, I just want to tear down the Wendy house out of sheer bloody boredom, and get outside.