Take Me To Church

So since I’ve been single I’ve moved back home to get my life back together again, when I got dumped I was made homeless so I’d no real choice in the matter (but don’t tell the parents that). Living back home has had its dramas, but it’s moments like these that get turned into memories that make it not seem so shit to be an adult living under a roof of rules.

In the sitting room with my Mam aka “The Slapper” (See blog 6). She’s on her phone (addicted so she is) and out of nowhere she screams. Oh shit call 911 we’re losing her! “I just won two tickets to a gig in the Academy”. Da, hang up she’s just being a thick. “What gig Ma”? She didn’t have a flipping clue as she didn’t even remember entering into any competition, nonetheless I saw it as a perfect excuse to get the mad yolk out of the house and get our Mammy and Daughter groove on. Also my friend had a gig on that night so it was killing two birds with one stone. She wasn’t really sold on the idea but I threw the words wine, pino and savo up in the air and she eventually came around.

Woo Partay…

Skip two days later and we were getting ready. Both of us were not very enthusiastic, in fact we were both trying to get the other one to say they didn’t want to go, but we were head to head with “I’m wrecked but I don’t mind what we do” approach. We were clearly playing a good game. (Like Mother like Daughter)  “Da, will ya give me and Ma a lift”?

And here we are sitting in the back of our personal taxi drinking wine and hoping it will sort all our problems. While in the car the taxi driver had the nerve to tell me my driving is reckless and I need to be using my mirrors. “I know Da, you’re ruining the buzz here, put on some Ke$ha”.  As we got out of the “taxi” didn’t I leave my phone on the back seat. All I can say is thank God it wasn’t a taxi. As I ran up the road after him waving my hands he stopped, When I opened the car door I was like “Aw thank God you seen me” and he replied “That’s because I used my mirrors”.  LEGEND!

I ran back to the Slapper laughing my head off like an already drunk lunatic. As we strolled into the Grand Social to support my friend’s gig, there were just seconds between holding a bottle of wine and walking in. Even though we were “wrecked” by God were we going to make the most of it.

As we walked into the gig, the place was dead and my friend was nowhere to be seen. The only thing that was going to get this place lit was Mother dearest and I chugging down that bottle of vino. Sitting in an empty room with a full glass triggered some brain cells as something didn’t add up. I muttered to myself Grand Social, Grand. Social, GRAND SOCIAL!? I suddenly started laughing my head off, Mam thought I was drunk already and I was but just on stupidness. “Were in the bloody wrong place”. I brought us to the Workman’s simple mistake right?

Throwback To Tesco Value Poison

We started knocking back our glasses of poison (Yes poison, tasted like it and went straight to the bloodstream). We couldn’t possibly knock the bottle back so we asked could we get a refund for it and while we were at it asked for a refund for our gig entry. Success! (If you don’t ask you don’t get). Off we went, legging it over the Liffey, The Slapper looking at me like she gave birth to a full on thick. You’re out with Tinderella now, hold on to your terminals.

Soon as we stepped inside my friend was getting up to perform. Get in there for timing. Three mini bottles of wine later I was officially merry, had a little dignity. The gig was fab (If anyone is into electronic music check out Doublescreen) Academy Time!

We walked in buzzing from the last gig, as we walked to the bar this blonde Tank was walking my way. He was so fab I looked down, but didn’t my Mam have a different idea and pushed me right into his chest while saying “There’s a Boyfriend for ya” and walked away. I could have died! I was all blushed and not even stringing sentences together so I just laughed. He on the other had was stringing all the sentences together and turns out my blonde tank was German. Heya!

We ended up chatting like we were Romeo and Juliet, the excitement was flowing back and forth not to mention he was nice to look at. He then offered to buy me a drink. Turns out Ma was making friends with all the ‘aul ones at the bar. Then three shots appeared and disappeared in the blink an eye. #Gone. German tank then went back over to tell his mates where he was. While he was gone I was asking my Mam “is it just me or is your man a bit of alright?” She replied “He’s a babe, you have to kiss him, your kids would be so cute!” Well, if your own Ma says to go for it and thinks you should settle down and start a family. Then someone call the vicar!

When he came back he asked me did I want to go the Church (Mrs Germanella) with him and his friends. Unfortunately we weren’t talking about the same church and that was the end of our love story until Ma says “Ya we’ll go” OK cupid calm down.

Once in the church I knew we were going to wear face at some stage, the chemistry was flowing and then he grabbed my hand and with that single touch we both pulled away and stared each other in the eyes simultaneously and said “Your hands”. This sounds so bizarre but my hands are dry and I’ve never met anyone with the same feeling hands until I was starring German babe right in the face and vice versa. We were infatuated then like this was all meant to be.  Long story short, we kissed, we kissed the face of each other and it was amazing.

German babe had me at my face whacking into his hard pecks and now he had me. Hook, line and bloody sinker. Only problem, He was German which meant he lived in Germany and he was going home the next day. NOOOO!  In drunken, love fool spirits he was enthusiastic that I would come and stay with him and he would show me the sights of Germany. Suddenly Germany got a whole lot more exciting. I was up for it so was he, we exchanged numbers, kissed some more and it was time for us to part ways to which he was so sad saying “We will definitely meet up and text me when you get home or I’ll be worrying” he even went as far to pinky promise that we’ll stay in touch (A legit bond of trust), The Slapper even got a hug goodbye.

When I got home I texted him…

“Hey, was really nice meeting you tonight. I have never met anyone with hands like mine, I’m delighted I’m not the only one. Enjoy your last night. X”

His reply…

“I got your Grandma on my dick”

I mean I know he’s German but, really?

What happened to our pinky promise?

Did I actually think this would work out?

Am I a bad judge of character?

Will I ever learn?

I replied “What?” and the message was never received, Then on a drunken night out a week later I added him on Snapchat…still pending to this day.

Either the plane crashed and he got stranded on an island, abducted by aliens (would explain the no signal) or when the drink wore off he remembered he had a girlfriend back home.

I like to tell myself it was the first one and he’s counting the days til we’re back together.

Until Next Week

Tinderella

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