Love At First Sight #15Bee never wanted to be alone with himself. He always had to have a sidekick present.
And, he wanted me to buy him a motorbike.
I told him no, as he was doing nothing for me except treating me like ****. I qualified it, hoping to turn it into a morality lesson, saying that I was prepared to buy him a bike if and when we lived together, and that could only be when he was prepared to treat me nice. I sang to him:
Make me feel at home
If you really care
Scratch my back and run your pretty
Fingers through my hair
If you want a motorbike then take my advice
Treat me nice
Then he said: OK, we live together.
I had and still have a strict rule whereby not one of my lovers ever gets to know where I live. Phone is alright, but address is always something I have denied them, often blatantly lying to them if they insist on knowing.
So, if I was going to conduct an experiment of living with him, it could not be at my house. I had to move out. Any such decisions were going against all that I said before about only doing this if and when he treats me nice. I was so foolish and mad that I gave in on that demand, thinking (incorrectly) that if we lived in the one bed under the same roof, I may have control over him and eventually earn his genuine affection and nice treatment.
The idiot Ken
Blowing every time I move my mouth
Blowing down the backroads headun south
You’re the idiot Ken
It’s a wonder that you still can move that pen.
The next time we met he took me to see an apartment block not far from his mother’s house. I didn’t like it, but it was cheap, and I figured it was better for him being close to evil mother. So I agreed. It was unfurnished apart from a bed and a dining table. A couple of hangers-on accompanied us, a male and female aged about forty. I have no idea who they were, perhaps an aunt and uncle, perhaps friends. No friends of mine that’s for sure. Anyhow, Bee demanded I pay them 20 bucks equivalent for “helping us”. These two spoke occasionally to him in language. Never said a word to me, never once smiled. Punch and Judy scowled downright sinister in fact. I witnessed no help. But I was looking behind me for a crocodile, a string of sausages or indeed a noose. While they carried no slapsticks I still decided the “help” might be in facilitating retention of my facial shape intact without them seeing need to alter it violently. I protested meekly, but as the only hints of reply were decidedly unfriendly stares and mean grimaces, decided it was probably wiser to just hand over the loot.
Bee & Me went shopping for rice cooker, crockery, bedding, the lot. Borrowed a couple of chairs. Later the next day we moved into our cosy little love nest. You know, I told him, this is now really akin to marriage, and you know what married couples do on their first night together: they usually **** five or six times. He looked at me as though I had suggested we bathe in the sewer.
The idiot Ken.