sweet man, but I don’t think he’s the man for me. Come to think of it, if you have to point out that someone is good kind and sweet then you’re on a hiding to nothing, are you not? Trouble is, I can’t seem to find the right moment to finish it, you know? Which is all a bit pathetic for a woman of my age.
Listen to me! What has my age got to do with anything? This isn’t the real world, so I can be what I like! There’s a thought. Perhaps I should develop an alter-cyber-ego. Call myself something like Gentian Foxglove, and regale you with lurid suggestions for sex games and so on (there must be a copy of Razzle or Rustler or Hustler or whatever around the house somewhere; there’ve been times when I couldn’t change a bed-sheet without finding myself face to face with a crotch).
Charliexxx
‘Gentian Foxglove! You sad person, you! Though I have to say, it does rather suit you. You’ve always had a Kate Bush-ish flower fairy kind of look. Mind you, I’ve heard a lot about this sort of thing. There’s a maths teacher at school who has been having cyber sex with a professor from Baltimore for two years now, apparently.’
Rose, who has spent much of the intervening week failing to get hold of me by telephone, wants to know just what it is that is so compelling about my clam digger.
‘Oh, there’s none of that,’ I tell her. ‘He’s just really nice, that’s all.’
Which is a lie. There’s plenty of ‘that’. In my head at least. I hear her tut.
‘Must be. You’re spending a heck of a lot of time emailing him. Is this a twice a week obsession or are you getting a fix daily.’
‘It’s getting that way. God, Rose, am I that sad?’
‘Hmm. Depends on what your intentions are, I guess. Should I mention the P word?’
For a second, I think she’s referring to the phone bill. Which says it all, really, as she actually means Phil.
‘Fair comment. Okay. And, yes. I guess you should. And, yes, you are right. I should do something about things. And yes, you’re right again. I should do it forthwith.’
She sighs. ‘But Charlie, are you - you know, with this email stuff - barking up a dead horse here?’
‘And you Head of English! Yeah, right again. Okay, I probably am. Definitely am. But I haven’t any other livestock on the go right now, have I? It’s just a bit of fun, Rose. A bit of zing in my life.’
And speaking of zing - good grief! Almost November already. 11.57 pm.
[email protected]
Dear griffith,
Oh dear. I’m pathetic and then some. had absolutely decided to - what’s the word here - Chuck? Give the elbow to? Dump? Whatever. End it with Phil yesterday. But failed miserably. Status all very much quo still. Well, what was I to do? I didn’t ask to go to the cinema, did I? And yes, I know I could have said, no, I don’t want to go and see a film, couldn’t I? But how could I? He was so keen to see it. Plus he’d already got tickets over the phone, which made it worse. As it would, wouldn’t it? And how can you compete with surround sound? And then, of course, the film was the only thing he wanted to talk about, and, God, I’ve already invited him over for Sunday lunch! And I feel so guilty about it all - what with you and everything, and - Oh, listen to me! Sorry. Sorry . The deal is that we don’t talk about this stuff, isn’t it? You never talk about this stuff. Ever. I know nothing about you. If we were having an actual relationship it would be a bit one-sided, wouldn’t it? In fact, pretend I didn’t send this. Though I will anyway, obviously.
Charliexxx
12.32 . Twelve thirty two in the morning!
[email protected]
Dear Charlie,
I don’t remember making any deals of that nature. And wouldn’t dream of doing so. What did you mean ‘what with you and everything’? I’m online right now, by the way.
Love griffithxxx
Oh!
[email protected]
Dear griffith,
I’m not sure what I meant. What do you
Listen to me! What has my age got to do with anything? This isn’t the real world, so I can be what I like! There’s a thought. Perhaps I should develop an alter-cyber-ego. Call myself something like Gentian Foxglove, and regale you with lurid suggestions for sex games and so on (there must be a copy of Razzle or Rustler or Hustler or whatever around the house somewhere; there’ve been times when I couldn’t change a bed-sheet without finding myself face to face with a crotch).
Charliexxx
‘Gentian Foxglove! You sad person, you! Though I have to say, it does rather suit you. You’ve always had a Kate Bush-ish flower fairy kind of look. Mind you, I’ve heard a lot about this sort of thing. There’s a maths teacher at school who has been having cyber sex with a professor from Baltimore for two years now, apparently.’
Rose, who has spent much of the intervening week failing to get hold of me by telephone, wants to know just what it is that is so compelling about my clam digger.
‘Oh, there’s none of that,’ I tell her. ‘He’s just really nice, that’s all.’
Which is a lie. There’s plenty of ‘that’. In my head at least. I hear her tut.
‘Must be. You’re spending a heck of a lot of time emailing him. Is this a twice a week obsession or are you getting a fix daily.’
‘It’s getting that way. God, Rose, am I that sad?’
‘Hmm. Depends on what your intentions are, I guess. Should I mention the P word?’
For a second, I think she’s referring to the phone bill. Which says it all, really, as she actually means Phil.
‘Fair comment. Okay. And, yes. I guess you should. And, yes, you are right. I should do something about things. And yes, you’re right again. I should do it forthwith.’
She sighs. ‘But Charlie, are you - you know, with this email stuff - barking up a dead horse here?’
‘And you Head of English! Yeah, right again. Okay, I probably am. Definitely am. But I haven’t any other livestock on the go right now, have I? It’s just a bit of fun, Rose. A bit of zing in my life.’
And speaking of zing - good grief! Almost November already. 11.57 pm.
[email protected]
Dear griffith,
Oh dear. I’m pathetic and then some. had absolutely decided to - what’s the word here - Chuck? Give the elbow to? Dump? Whatever. End it with Phil yesterday. But failed miserably. Status all very much quo still. Well, what was I to do? I didn’t ask to go to the cinema, did I? And yes, I know I could have said, no, I don’t want to go and see a film, couldn’t I? But how could I? He was so keen to see it. Plus he’d already got tickets over the phone, which made it worse. As it would, wouldn’t it? And how can you compete with surround sound? And then, of course, the film was the only thing he wanted to talk about, and, God, I’ve already invited him over for Sunday lunch! And I feel so guilty about it all - what with you and everything, and - Oh, listen to me! Sorry. Sorry . The deal is that we don’t talk about this stuff, isn’t it? You never talk about this stuff. Ever. I know nothing about you. If we were having an actual relationship it would be a bit one-sided, wouldn’t it? In fact, pretend I didn’t send this. Though I will anyway, obviously.
Charliexxx
12.32 . Twelve thirty two in the morning!
[email protected]
Dear Charlie,
I don’t remember making any deals of that nature. And wouldn’t dream of doing so. What did you mean ‘what with you and everything’? I’m online right now, by the way.
Love griffithxxx
Oh!
[email protected]
Dear griffith,
I’m not sure what I meant. What do you
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