I think someone's going to beat me up.
Discussion
I have a bit of a problem on my hands, and it does, as ever, involve a troublesome woman.
She was part of our group in Ibiza. This girl is extremely pretty and, at first cast, very funny and engaging. Smoking hot body too. And as such, one of the members of our group (a man who is no friend of mine, so no loyalty was owed), spent the entire weekend trailing after her like a lost puppy. It was, truth be told, pathetic to watch – and according to his male friends, he has been doing it for years, to no avail. Anyway, I quite fancied this girl (as in really thought – “wow; this is potential Lady Flashman material, if she’ll have me”) and so, for form’s sake, asked the poor sap’s friends for permission to proceed (I would have gone for it anyway, but one must observe the form). Permission was given, as they too were sick of the man mooning around like a love sick puppy after a girl who clearly enjoyed the attention but was never going to put out for him. I think he regards her as the future mother of his children. Everyone else could see that she was no angel – and thus right up my street, so to speak.
Anyway, the time came, things happened, and I took her home. However, during the course of the night I found out that, while she was fun, and pretty, she was also a conniving little hussy with a wickedly manipulative edge. So, the next morning, I thanked her for the night, without any mention of a second encounter.
Our friend obviously finds out, and comes to find me. Words are exchanged, culminating in me telling him to “man up” and stalking off. No violence - I do not like brawling, and certainly not over a woman.
The trouble is, brawling is what is coming, and from a rather unexpected and worrying direction. Unbeknown to all of us except our sappy friend and the “lady” concerned, she has a boyfriend. He is her boxing instructor – and thus a potentially scary man. And our sappy friend, in some twisted love triangle of oddness, knows this chap. And decided to inform him of his beloved’s infidelity. Obviously, the steroidally enhanced cro-magnon is incensed that his little lamb has been tupped, and asked for a name. Which our sappy friend gave him, along with my place of work and my home address. I this morning received an e-mail from the sap, gleefully telling me what he had done. Closely followed by an e-mail from another bloke, claiming to be this girl’s boyfriend, suggesting that we “have a word” (e-mail saved for evidence in case I am found murdered).
Now, I am no coward, and will quite happily defend my honour. However, this fellow is a boxing instructor – and I doubt that on this occasion he’ll be fighting Queensberry. So while I box regularly, I doubt I have much of a chance.
I am going back to my Krav Maga classes for a start; one booked in for this evening.
Also, Anyone know a surgeon who’s good at facial reconstruction? Either to change my identity and avoid trouble, or to rebuild my face after it has been pushed in by the meathead.
Jesus. This is all I need. I have a date on Thursday, and would rather have a face for that event.
Options (for some reason couldn't post a poll)
- Change name and go into hiding/emigrate?
- Man up, train like crazy, and become a ninja killing machine?
- Buy a handgun?
- Apologise to the chap (this is a joke – will I hell!)
Edited by Harry Flashman on Monday 3rd August 15:38
Harry Flashman said:
I have a bit of a problem on my hands, and it does, as ever, involve a troublesome woman.
She was part of our small group. This girl is extremely pretty and, at first cast, very funny and engaging. Smoking hot body too. And as such, one of the members of our group (a man who is no friend of mine, so no loyalty was owed), spent the entire weekend trailing after her like a lost puppy. It was, truth be told, pathetic to watch – and according to his male friends, he has been doing it for years, to no avail. Anyway, I quite fancied this girl (as in really thought – “wow; this is potential Lady Flashman material, if she’ll have me”) and so, for form’s sake, asked the poor sap’s friends for permission to proceed (I would have gone for it anyway, but one must observe the form). Permission was given, as they too were sick of the man mooning around like a love sick puppy after a girl who clearly enjoyed the attention but was never going to put out for him. I think he regards her as the future mother of his children. Everyone else could see that she was no angel – and thus right up my street, so to speak.
Anyway, the time came, things happened, and I took her home. However, during the course of the night I found out that, while she was fun, and pretty, she was also a conniving little hussy with a wickedly manipulative edge. So, the next morning, I thanked her for the night, without any mention of a second encounter.
Our friend obviously finds out, and comes to find me. Words are exchanged, culminating in me telling him to “man up” and stalking off. No violence - I do not like brawling, and certainly not over a woman.
The trouble is, brawling is what is coming, and from a rather unexpected and worrying direction. Unbeknown to all of us except our sappy friend and the “lady” concerned, she has a boyfriend. He is her boxing instructor – and thus a potentially scary man. And our sappy friend, in some twisted love triangle of oddness, knows this chap. And decided to inform him of his beloved’s infidelity. Obviously, the steroidally enhanced cro-magnon is incensed that his little lamb has been tupped, and asked for a name. Which our sappy friend gave him, along with my place of work and my home address. I this morning received an e-mail from the sap, gleefully telling me what he had done. Closely followed by an e-mail from another bloke, claiming to be this girl’s boyfriend, suggesting that we “have a word” (e-mail saved for evidence in case I am found murdered).
Now, I am no coward, and will quite happily defend my honour. However, this fellow is a boxing instructor – and I doubt that on this occasion he’ll be fighting Queensberry. So while I box regularly, I doubt I have much of a chance.
I am going back to my Krav Maga classes for a start; one booked in for this evening.
Also, Anyone know a surgeon who’s good at facial reconstruction? Either to change my identity and avoid trouble, or to rebuild my face after it has been pushed in by the meathead.
Jesus. This is all I need. I have a date on Thursday, and would rather have a face for that event.
Options (for some reason couldn't post a poll)
- Change name and go into hiding/emigrate?
- Man up, train like crazy, and become a ninja killing machine?
- Buy a handgun?
- Apologise to the chap (this is a joke – will I hell!)
Sorry but She was part of our small group. This girl is extremely pretty and, at first cast, very funny and engaging. Smoking hot body too. And as such, one of the members of our group (a man who is no friend of mine, so no loyalty was owed), spent the entire weekend trailing after her like a lost puppy. It was, truth be told, pathetic to watch – and according to his male friends, he has been doing it for years, to no avail. Anyway, I quite fancied this girl (as in really thought – “wow; this is potential Lady Flashman material, if she’ll have me”) and so, for form’s sake, asked the poor sap’s friends for permission to proceed (I would have gone for it anyway, but one must observe the form). Permission was given, as they too were sick of the man mooning around like a love sick puppy after a girl who clearly enjoyed the attention but was never going to put out for him. I think he regards her as the future mother of his children. Everyone else could see that she was no angel – and thus right up my street, so to speak.
Anyway, the time came, things happened, and I took her home. However, during the course of the night I found out that, while she was fun, and pretty, she was also a conniving little hussy with a wickedly manipulative edge. So, the next morning, I thanked her for the night, without any mention of a second encounter.
Our friend obviously finds out, and comes to find me. Words are exchanged, culminating in me telling him to “man up” and stalking off. No violence - I do not like brawling, and certainly not over a woman.
The trouble is, brawling is what is coming, and from a rather unexpected and worrying direction. Unbeknown to all of us except our sappy friend and the “lady” concerned, she has a boyfriend. He is her boxing instructor – and thus a potentially scary man. And our sappy friend, in some twisted love triangle of oddness, knows this chap. And decided to inform him of his beloved’s infidelity. Obviously, the steroidally enhanced cro-magnon is incensed that his little lamb has been tupped, and asked for a name. Which our sappy friend gave him, along with my place of work and my home address. I this morning received an e-mail from the sap, gleefully telling me what he had done. Closely followed by an e-mail from another bloke, claiming to be this girl’s boyfriend, suggesting that we “have a word” (e-mail saved for evidence in case I am found murdered).
Now, I am no coward, and will quite happily defend my honour. However, this fellow is a boxing instructor – and I doubt that on this occasion he’ll be fighting Queensberry. So while I box regularly, I doubt I have much of a chance.
I am going back to my Krav Maga classes for a start; one booked in for this evening.
Also, Anyone know a surgeon who’s good at facial reconstruction? Either to change my identity and avoid trouble, or to rebuild my face after it has been pushed in by the meathead.
Jesus. This is all I need. I have a date on Thursday, and would rather have a face for that event.
Options (for some reason couldn't post a poll)
- Change name and go into hiding/emigrate?
- Man up, train like crazy, and become a ninja killing machine?
- Buy a handgun?
- Apologise to the chap (this is a joke – will I hell!)
don't rub another man's ruhbarb!And anyways you have nothing to be sorry for, she did the cheating not you, your single.
At the moment, everything is on his terms. If you want the upper hand, put it on your terms.
Email him back, YOU arrange a meeting in the vicinity of some mates and have it out with him.
"Yep, I banged her like a Salvation Army drum but neither she, her friends or the Gollum that follows her around trying to get in her knickers told me you were on the scene. I reckon I buy you a beer and we work out how to teach THEM BOTH a lesson cause I'd be livid with the pair of them if I were you."
Job done.
Email him back, YOU arrange a meeting in the vicinity of some mates and have it out with him.
"Yep, I banged her like a Salvation Army drum but neither she, her friends or the Gollum that follows her around trying to get in her knickers told me you were on the scene. I reckon I buy you a beer and we work out how to teach THEM BOTH a lesson cause I'd be livid with the pair of them if I were you."
Job done.
I'd take out the middle man and beat the sap who gave your game away to a bleeding pulp. This might indeed give you some satisfaction before you become what is known as dead meat.
I don't think you've got anywhere to go here to be honest. I think you hide under your stairs and wait for it to blow over. If the ho's boxing instructor man friend has any sense he'll leave you well alone and get quit of her as well. All that has happened here is you've exposed her as the tart that she truly is and he should be grateful finding this out before he got engaged/married to her.
Your mate really should know better what goes on tour stays on tour. Poor form on his part.
I don't think you've got anywhere to go here to be honest. I think you hide under your stairs and wait for it to blow over. If the ho's boxing instructor man friend has any sense he'll leave you well alone and get quit of her as well. All that has happened here is you've exposed her as the tart that she truly is and he should be grateful finding this out before he got engaged/married to her.
Your mate really should know better what goes on tour stays on tour. Poor form on his part.
Ahhh Moneypenny said:
And anyway, you have nothing to be sorry for - she did the cheating not you, you're single.
In a nutshell.Explain, calmly, in between punches to the face, that Piltdown Man might be better off looking closer to home for the villain of the piece.
You weren't to know she was attached, so you're in the clear.
You didn't know, right?
Good points all.
He has my e-mail address and home address from the "contacts list" our organised hosts (damn them) circulated.
Denial will probably work. I'm hoping so. I very much doubt that the lady in question will want to won up to it. Have left a message for her, suggesting that it may be in both our interests to deny this. Let's hope that she hasn't folded under interrogation and let the truth out, eh?
He has my e-mail address and home address from the "contacts list" our organised hosts (damn them) circulated.
Denial will probably work. I'm hoping so. I very much doubt that the lady in question will want to won up to it. Have left a message for her, suggesting that it may be in both our interests to deny this. Let's hope that she hasn't folded under interrogation and let the truth out, eh?
as moneypenny says, you have no appologising to do, but I know where this will head, so.....say sorry you didnt realise, how were you to know? etc etc tell him about the poor sap trying it on at every opportunity etc.
However - How the f
k does some random stranger know your name, address and email?
However - How the f
k does some random stranger know your name, address and email?I just don't get some men, the sap who bubbled you needs his head shoved down the toilet for being an utter cad and, well.....for being a sap with no self respect. The meathead who wants to defend the tramps honour needs to ditch her, realise that a bloke is a bloke and it will ever be thus and thank you for wiseing him up before he married the b
h
PS get yer parts checked out chap, she sounds like a right rum un
hPS get yer parts checked out chap, she sounds like a right rum un
Gassing Station | The Lounge | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff




