Evening All,
So following events from last week after my best friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle Dumb, met the rather shy Mr. Warehouse I wondered what the next steps in the rather rapidly moving romance would be. One thing I never expected though was for my midweek dinner with my father to be such a hostile and fiery affair when it came to talking about my love-life.
Daddy picked me up from work just after I finished, meaning I only had a few fleeting moments of stolen kisses and secret cuddles in the canteen with Mr. Warehouse before I saw his silver jeep purr into the car-park. Braving the cold winter air and hopping into the warmth of my Papa's car I looked forward to a good chin wag, even if it was an excuse for him just to kill time before a pre-arranged meeting. Sitting at the table ready to order I knew I wanted something meaty and saucy. Chicken and Rib Combo it was then! You see my friend, I am not one of these ladies (Dare I call myself that!) whose diet consists of skinny soya latte's with the possibility of a salad minus the caesar dressing. Yes, I am that girl. That girl who enjoys a mighty rack - of ribs. I adore a rare steak and need my meat to still have a heartbeat its that blue. You cant beat the feeling you get when your teeth sink into the cooked flesh and chew, swallowing all the meaty juices and don't even get me started on how amazing it is to have a right old naw on a set of ribs. Sometimes I wonder if I was a Lioness in a previous life, hunting antelope and getting a food-high on Zebra ass. Gosh I have just had dinner and now I am hungry again!
Anyway food was ordered and said food arrived but it wasn't until the dessert menu was cracked out that Dad really let loose. Parents are strange you see. Even as a girl in her early-twenties I still need my Dad and want to be around him and spend more time with him than I currently do. Although I appreciate him, his Girlfriend, work, extended family and voluntary work usually stand in the way though and so I have to be made happy with these fleeting post work gap-fillers. I get that he is busy and all with his own life, but that just makes it even more odd that he would act in such a begrudging way. And so, in between silly jokes and mocking comments about flaws that aren't really all that important there was some serious statements made. Comments like "If he hurts you there will be hell to pay" and "I hope he isn't using you because if he is then god so help me I will rip his balls off" followed in a wave of both interrogation style quick-fire questions and meaningful comments of somewhat intent. I understood though that by the comments my Daddy dear was making such as "I don't want to see you get hurt and cry any more" had a dual meaning. To me, as I sat across from my Old Man, I heard "I don't want to be picking up the pieces this time when it all goes wrong". And I understand his concerns. I myself am regularly transported back to one of the darkest moments in my life, The moment Mr. Workaholic left me.
Desperate to change the tune, conversation turned to plans for Christmas and New Years. Being Mid-November already and with no-one having an actual plan to go with I became anxious for my own fate at Christmas. Would I be doomed to spend it alone - Opening pressies 'To me, from me' whilst wearing my pyjamas and eating copious amounts of chocolate Santa's and Cheese Footballs consequently ending the day by drinking far too much Port and watching back-to-back films and feeling sorry for myself for being a loner!? Or will I be forced to spend yet another Christmas with family members I don't wholly know, recognise or really give any care about given the fact I hardly ever see them. In all honesty though I think if I drove, Christmas morning alone wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I can have a lye in, get up and do what I wanna do, drink coffee in my Xmas panties and dance around my flat with my tits out to Slade. Either way I am hoping it will be entertaining and fun-filled. Maybe this year I will have someone to kiss underneath the mistletoe!?
Now Siri is a wonderful thing. it can help you find out things just by speaking to your mobile phone. So whether it is and enquiry into the forecast for the next few days or to Google 'How long an elephant is pregnant for?' - of which the answer is twenty-four-months, Siri knows the answers. However there is one thing she does not know. And that is whether someone will commit or not. As I flicked through the channels I noticed Mr. Warehouse talking to Siri. He had asked a multitude of questions including "When will she be mine?", "Am I good enough for her?" and "When do I ask her out?" to no avail as the answers were null and voided. Laughing to myself as he was told off by Siri due to the foul language of the next sentence out of his mouth, I mouthed some dangerous words. And as little giggles and flirts turned into full on Petting Season at the Zoo I made a move I probably shouldn't have. Now I know (As usual) I am beating around the bush but after a good half-hour of skirting around the issue, I was now in a very compromising position, straddled on my bright orange couch, when I was asked a question I shall never forget the context of. As my lover panted his way to the finish line, one simple question was whispered in my ear.
"Will you be my girlfriend?" Mr. Warehouse groaned, banishing all memoirs of the same phrase being used in the playground in high school. I responded the only way a lady should and that was with an almighty powerful 'Yes' leaving us both lost for words and out of breath. Truly the most memorable way I think I have ever been asked out and something I am looking back at right now as I write to you all with a grin on my face as wide as moon shining through my window.
With work colleagues have already jokingly asking when will be the best time to buy a hat for the wedding, I don't think it will come as a big shock to those who I work with. Maybe the circumstances, but definitely not the shift ion relationship status. Its strange to think that Mr. Warehouse and I have only known each other for four-and-a-half months, and only really started seeing each other properly since I turned the ripe old age of twenty-three back in September. Somehow it feels like we have known one another for an eternity. And although now we are metaphorically, physically and sexually in a relationship, mentally I am still trying to get my head around it. You see for someone that has been so brutally scorched in the past I still find it difficult to throw caution to the wind and live in the moment. I am getting better and find myself now casually daydreaming about the future and what it might hold for Mr. Warehouse and I. Optimistic I am, however anxious that I have yet to have a wild party weekend in Ibiza or a Summer travelling round somewhere exotic. So whilst I have finally jumped and taken the big step to be in a committed relationship with someone like Mr. Warehouse I will stay true to myself, my friends, my family and most of all The Tweedles, for I am only twenty-three and there is so much more to life than just living!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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