Kully came round last night, a real surprise as I thought it was a one nighter. Like many unmarried Celtic blokes living in England I don't have much of a mid-week social life unless I'm down the pub. Midweek I tend to stay sober just because it makes work just about bearable. If I go to work with a hangover these days I'm in danger of strangling my boss.
Anyway I digress for a reason, sitting watching telly in a semi-comatose state is my natural Monday routine. Enertaining a young lady is not high up the planned agenda (weekends only you understand, saving on washing). I felt a bit put out and had to restrain myself from turning into a cross between Mrs Doyle and Father Dougal. "Would ya like a cup o tea, go on you know you do" followed by "What brings ya round here, we don't get many passersby on a Monday!!"
You guessed it, I was rattled, the prospect of bad news (AIDS, the Clap, Psycho Husband!!) or worse good news (I've missed you, can we see each other more often, lets get married aargh!!) was making my stomach churn. Worringly she made no demands just burst into conversation like we were old pals. Talked about relatives, mad uncles in Coventry, cousins who were always getting beat up, a typically Irish conversation. The Donegalis and the Bengalis have very similar interests it would seem; death, family, drink and food.
After an hour or two it was getting dark, I offered to walk her home, she smiled, pulled out her toothbrush and nightdress froma suspiciously large handbag and said she was staying over. "Is that right, says I". "Yea fella you need a good woman to look after ya. At your age you should be married with big kids not hanging about discos looking for ten to two shags".
Realising resistance would lead to an uncomfortable situation I smiled and said "You can stay tonight but lets not get carried away, we don't know each other very well. You're not moving in yet."
"Fine boyo, come here" said a now naked Kully. Never one to resist an invitation I stepped in and almost swallowed her whole. Aniseed flavoured Indian women are hard to beat on a Monday night. This morning she was up at six and out by seven, dressed and fed as well as my humble kitchen can manage. She promised to call on Wednesday as she went out the door.
Not quite sure where this is going but I am not going to worry too much about it. Most women realise pretty quickly that I'm not marriage material and escape before things get too rough. She's a nice girl but I'm not interested enough for there to be much of a future.
