11The breakup

THE BREAK UP

Lost love

lost pork chops

1986

song:- Should I stay or should I go?

Artist :- The clash

Song :- I’m your man

Artist:- Wham

Song :- walk like an Egyptian

Artist:- the bangles

song:- The story of the blues

Artist:- Pete whylie

HEARTACHE

April 1986

I was at a very low point in my brief adult life, at the age of twenty one I had everything going for me, a secure job, a semi detached house in an affluent suburb, great friends and family, a stunning fiancée and a fairy tale wedding to look forward to in just 4 weeks,

but that life came crashing down with a sliding door moment, and I often wonder if I did not walk through that door on that particular day would I have been married to a woman who did not love me, or would she have actually gone through with it and at a later date just leave? Questions that will never need to be answered, because I did walk through that door and it took me on a totally different path in my life from the one I had foreseen for myself, and do you no what I would not change one bloody thing, but of course I did no think that at the time.

It was the spring of nineteen eighty six just eight weeks after my wonderful fiancée through me an amazing twenty first birthday surprise party, but soon after things changed and I knew fuck all about it, my rosé tinted glasses were working overtime.

i guess it was around six pm, one Friday evening, I was working a late shift at work, so I was meant to be working till 10pm, but it was around 5pm that i started to feel a little unwell, I’m guessing a madras was not the best idea before my shift, god I had the most excruciating shits,

so anyway the manager of the warehouse where I was employed as a folk lift truck driver (believe it or not) took an executive decision and decided to send me home early,

thus putting this whole sequence of events into motion, and ending with a bungled drug fuelled terrifying none rape of a lonely twenty one year old young man,

5.30pm one Friday in April

Obviously I arrive home some hours earlier than I was expected, to the lovely three bed semi detached house my fiancée and I purchased just a couple of years earlier,

and with some tender love and care we had renovated the property to a point where we felt we could move in together prior to our marriage,

this event was getting ever closer, and we could not have been happier, and with no financial worries as we had paid for the special day in full, ( well I say we, it was mostly my fiancée’s parents )

As I put my key into the front door, well into the lock on the door obviously, I could sense something was wrong, or was it that i was imagining something was wrong? no I know what it is, i could smell something, yes that was it, i could smell something, something so beautiful, my minds was now racing,

how could she know? Maybe my manager had phoned ahead? I wonder what the occasion could be,

I slowly push open the front door in anticipation, then quickly moved down the hallway to the kitchen dining area, I push open the swing doors, ( we had the ones like in the western saloons, that swing both ways) it was the nineteen eighties, so don’t fucking judge!

and then there she was, my eyes sparkled to see my fiancée my bethrone, my first love, just sat there in all her beauty ,

her angel wings wafting gently in the evening sun , her halo shining so bright just above her flowing auburn hair which cascaded down her wonderfully long suntanned neck,

there she was, just sat angelic like at the dining table with that perfect smile, her big brown eyes staring across the room at me so lovingly,

the sweat glistening from her forehead as it runs unusually fast down her cheeks and off her top lip,

her perfect white teeth suddenly seem to be stuck in a fake smile like she was trying to let out a fart, and her face seemed to be stuck in some sort of android stare

but wait , no, It couldn’t be, could it?

Surely not, this can not be happening, no not my angel, I will wake up soon enough, I have obviously taken a tumble at work banged my head against a container, lost consciousness, been rushed to hospital, and I’m in a coma having the most awful nightmares, but soon I will wake up with the dulcet tones of my beloved urging me to wake, as her bed side Virgil will soon come to a happy ending, I blink, no I’m awake, I blink twice, for fuck sake, I do a double take,

back and to, back and to,

Who the fuck is that,

my eyes refuse to believe what is right in front of me,

But it’s true, there he is

this young chap finely dressed in a salmon coloured two piece suit, white shirt, crisply ironed of course, a paisley tie, all the fucking rage in the nineteen eighties, whoop the fucking do, but the one thing that lets the boy down was his shoes, first of all they were slip ons who the fuck wears slip ons, I don’t care what century your from, and they were scuffed to fuck, the dirty bastard, he looked about my age, and was sat opposite my beloved, my angel,

He also was looking lovingly into my eyes,

now, this is where it gets a little bit confusing, because, what I wished to see and what I actually saw were two completely different things,

the reality was the two of them looking into each other’s eyes lovingly, (Which does not look great for me and Jane going forward, does it?)

and I was the outsider looking in as the scene plays out,

He has my dinner plate in front of him,and this prick is sat in my chair, at my table,

“oh you’ve got to be fucking joking” I screamed without even thinking, and it was directed to the bloke sitting right in front of me, and in my chair, at my table,

Now you have to understand in reality, this all happened in milli seconds, in my head it took slightly longer than a mini series that was two season in,

I had to speak again, and what came from my gobsmacked mouth you may find hard to believe, but it is the unbridled truth, well my truth,

“hi baby, so who do we have here then, eating my fucking pork chops, cooked to perfection may I say”

and now I understand, the proverbial penny finally drops, that beautiful smell sensation that teased my sensesI as I entered my home, was none other than my pork chops, my sweet pork chops, tomorrow's fucking dinner I was led to believe, now it was tarnished by another, and I let the total stranger to me ( but I'm taking a put that Jane knew him) know in no uncertain terms that I will not share my fucking pork chops with no man, the words just tumbled out of my mouth like some weird speech

“Hey my friend do you understand that you are eating another man’s dinner,

a late dinner that he was looking forward to enjoying after a long day at work, and do you know my favoured cut of any animal is a pork chop, so please can you refrain from eating my fucking chops” my rant cartied on with

“No need to answer that because It’s rude to speak with a mouthful of another mans food”

”Oh and while your at it, maybe you could get your hand out of my fiancée’s pants“

now at this point I’m getting a little suspicious of his intentions here,

I know for a fact my angel does not have any brothers I know about,

and I have gathered this information over the last five years we’ve been in a steady relationship together, but I am hoping against hope that jane does have a brother, just one, pretty please,

and let’s hope he has just been a very very shy boy,

I know what you are going to say at this point, how do I explain that if it were her brother at the dining table, why would he have his hand down her pants?

Well there is a simple explanation for his actions,

he’s probably been away on an arctic expedition for the past five years, he’s then developed frost bite in said hand, and it was in desperate need of some heat, and what quicker way to warm ones extremities

hence hand down pants scenario, always the best place for cold hands right, we’ll it works for me,

and then of course he would certainly need some nourishment, probably been on rations for the duration, so I could just about forgive him eating my pork chops, he had more than likely been craving meat for such a long time,

and that is why I have never met janes brother, I rest my case for the defence.

but of course it wasn’t was it, he was not her brother,

he was just a friend from work, yes, just a friend from work, with a passion for another mans pork chops, and maybe other things,

things turned dark once I excepted the truth, the chap left, god bless him he left me one pork chop, and now Jane wanted to talk,

oh Christ, here we go, we are at that stage now, to this day I blame my fucking manager for our talk, we'll Jane talked I just sobbed and begged

But the talk did not go to well, for me anyway, for Jane I suspect it went amazingly.

So I’ve been relegated to the brother she never had, fucking joke,

yes you guessed it, “John” she said, “ I do still love you, I do,” but.... ( ahh here we go , let’s ave it, I know what’s fuckin coming) “but just like a brother”

Boom get in there, she smashed it out of the park,

I think I woke from my alcohol induced coma about a week later,I was back at my mums house probably till I pick up my old age pension