I’m fucking you up the arse – do you like it?

I’m going to write about the last few weekends in the wrong order. The last post was about Andrew meeting my parents.

It went OK, but I found aspects of it a bit disappointing.

The next weekends:

  • we celebrated our one year anniversary, which was OK but, again, a bit disappointing
  • then we were supposed to have a nice weekend in London to make up for the last two being disappointing, but we had an argument about the Champions League final instead.

As well as being with Andrew at weekends, during my precious writing time, I also haven’t felt that motivated to write about disappointing things that weren’t that interesting. (Don’t worry, I will. I’ve never let anything stop me writing about things that are not that interesting before.)

I thought I’d write about the weekend that just happened, while it’s fresh in my mind, so I’m back on track, then catch up on the missed weekends later.

So, the weekend just gone, we went away to stay with his group of school friends, in a big house they’d rented, in the Cotswolds.

I already had mixed feelings about the weekend.

When Andrew and I had only been on a few dates, last June, I remember him going away with these school friends. He texted me while he was away and I thought that I liked the sound of them.

When he got back, he told me he’d never introduced a girl to them before. I remember thinking that, if we were still together in a year, it would be cool if he invited me.

Then, more than half a year passed, and everything broadly continued going well between us.

When it was Valentine’s Day, and I was disappointed he didn’t get me anything, make or draw me anything, as requested, the one glimmer of hope was that he said he’d arranged a surprise for me, in June.

Initially, he wouldn’t tell me what it was, and I thought about what it could be.

Had he got us tickets for the Harry Potter play? Had my efforts to get him into music paid off – had he got us gig tickets? Had he planned a romantic weekend somewhere?

I was excited.

Towards the end of Valentine’s Day weekend, I got upset because he still wouldn’t tell me he loved me, and on top of that, he hadn’t done what I’d asked for Valentine’s Day.

“But I’ve arranged this surprise in June!” He said, when I was preparing to leave. “Shall I tell you what it is?”

“Yes,” I said, tearfully.

“OK. When I go away with my school friends this year…” He paused for effect. “…you can come.”

“Oh… I… That’s the surprise?” Fuck sake. “Where is the weekend away?”

“I can’t remember, but somewhere like Stroud or Gloucester?”

“I grew up in the next town to Stroud, so I went there pretty much every weekend. I used to work in Gloucester and it’s a shithole.”

Neither are on my Must-see list.

“Aren’t you pleased?” Andrew asked.

“I mean, it’s definitely nice you want me to come, but… letting me tag along to something you’re doing with your friends? That’s not really a Valentine’s Day present. At best it’s admin.”

(I hadn’t mentioned this in my post about the disappointing Valentine’s Day because when I started writing it, it seemed too convoluted to explain.)

It later transpired he hadn’t told anyone I was coming along, so there wasn’t anywhere for me to sleep.

It was after my feedback about this debacle that I ended up being taken to Paris for my birthday.

So, when I had thought about this trip in June, I’d felt partly resentful rather than excited. It did turn out it was in neither Stroud nor Gloucester, but somewhere nicer in Oxfordshire.

We agreed I’d bring my air mattress and Andrew would sleep on it so I could have the bed. But I felt a bit annoyed that everyone else’s partners had official beds but we were going to be cramped into a single room like teenagers, because Andrew had been too slow to mention that he had acquired a girlfriend.

My levels of enthusiasm decreased further when I discovered every couple coming except one had babies or children.

I had booked Friday off work. We set off in my car in the afternoon.

We waited until rush hour to set off, because Andrew needed to do laundry and buy new trainers apparently. We got stuck in traffic and accidentally joined the M4 going in the wrong direction, but got there eventually.

When we arrived at the house, some of his friends came out to greet us.

Some introduced themselves and were really friendly. Some didn’t and weren’t.

His closest friend’s wife was feeding their children when we walked into the kitchen and didn’t even look at me, but other friends were really enthusiastic.

It was a bit unclear where we sleeping, but we found our tiny room and unpacked.

It quickly became apparent that everything was completely dominated by children – the conversation, the focus of what everyone was doing – everything.

The only other couple who didn’t have children were really friendly and gave us some drinks. They had got some Westcountry cider and ale for everyone.

We chatted to them for a bit, which was really nice. Then I remembered we needed to pump up the air mattress, and it was better to do that before people went to bed, as the pump is noisy.

We went into our bedroom and decided to have some quick sex. It turned out to be very quick, as he accidentally came as soon as he entered me. We both laughed and I said, “At least it was inside me instead of everywhere!”

We blew up the air mattress and went back out to join the others.

Andrew was talking to a group of lads about sport, but I saw his face fall when one of his friends said, “have you bought a bike for your daughter?” and the conversation moved on from sport to children doing sport.

We tried to join in a few different conversations, but everything came back to children and babies within a few minutes.

One person said something about knitting, and I thought, Step aside, now I can join in! but then she said, “I just really knit things for the baby now.”

Some people did make an effort to ask me questions about what my job was, and where I’m from, but it seemed like as soon as we’d completed that bit of chat, we were back on illnesses their children had recently had.

We decided to go and play pool in a room we’d found with a pool table in.

“It’s nice to get away from the children chat, isn’t it!” Andrew said, as I closed the door.

He went on for a few minutes about how boring the conversation was, and some lowlights he thought were particularly boring.

He was leaning against the pool table as he said this. I was hugging him from behind, and then, I started messing around, pretending I was a having sex with him over the pool table.

“I’m fucking you up the arse! Do you like it?” I said, thrusting my pelvis into him, while we laughed.

I don’t know why, we were just horsing around.

Then, his friend’s wife came into the room and asked us to be quiet, as she’d just put her children to bed.

We’d forgotten there was a staircase in this room, that lead up to a bedroom, which didn’t have a door.

She’d heard the whole thing.

We went back into our own bedroom.

“Oh God. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened!” I said.

I thought it was worse that she’d heard us slagging off the children-chat. Andrew thought it was worse that she’d overheard the ‘fucking up the arse’.

We went back into the kitchen and I had a nice chat with one of the wives who was cooking. She said they were excited Andrew had met someone and I said I felt really lucky.

We all had dinner that night, and it was nice. We had various different curries. There was another coeliac and a vegan, so the group were really used to being on top of what was gluten free, which I really appreciated. The conversation during the meal was a bit more interesting. A very big proportion of the chat was still about children, but some other topics came up too, which was great.

There was a conversation about the Archers, which I enthusiastically contributed to, which hopefully counterbalanced some of the fucking up the arse.

Afterwards, I helped a couple of the wives wash up. When I rejoined the dinner table, the conversation was about Brexit. I had partly helped wash up to avoid Brexit. Even though I knew I’d had the same views as the rest of the group, based on what Andrew told me, I was bored of talking about it. It’s really taken people’s focus away from other really important political issues.

One of the guys asked me my opinion about Brexit when I sat back down, and they seemed to approve of what I said. I even threw something in about TTIP which people seemed impressed by.

I didn’t sleep well. We went to sleep in squeezed into the single bed in our room, but I woke up after while and moved onto the air mattress on the floor. Every time I’d tried to turn over in my sleep, I’d woken up as their wasn’t enough space.

Then, throughout the night, I was kept awake by Andrew’s snoring. Normally, if he’s snoring, I go and sleep in the spare room, or on the sofa, but there wasn’t anywhere else I could go. Gently waking him and trying to get him to stop didn’t make any difference.

In the morning, I got back into bed with him. He went to make me a cup of tea when he woke up, before even saying anything to me, which was nice as he doesn’t even drink hot drinks.

I was a bit moody because when he was making the tea, he seemed to get sucked into helping some of his friends make breakfast, and was gone for ages.

He came in and handed me my tea, before shooting out again without saying anything to me.

I was probably in more of a bad mood from the lack of sleep, but I felt fed up he hadn’t really said a word to me, even though he had been thoughtful and made me tea. I had wanted more of hug and chat in bed before we joined the others.

Eventually, he came back and we stupidly got into another conversation about whether we want children or not. We just can’t resist discussing it at the worst times.

It came up because he was complaining about his friends having no conversation besides children anymore, and semi-seriously joking about it making him not want them.

I got a bit upset because, while I think are almost completely on the same page about kids, I do have more of an evolutionary urge to replicate than he does.

When things were back on track between us, when started nearly having sex, but then I said I wasn’t quite in the mood.

Literally two minutes later, someone’s 7- year-old child burst into our room without knocking.

“Thank God we abandoned the sex! Imagine if I’d been riding you,” I said.

After this, I had a shower and nearly flooded the bathroom as the shower drain was blocked. I realised just as water started pouring onto the floor, and managed to avert a flood, partially clearing the blockage and then rinsing my soapy body with a tiny drizzle of water.

I didn’t feel like eating breakfast, so I just had some tea. I joined some of the others in the living room while Andrew got dressed.

There were children running around shouting but I managed to chat to some of the friendlier people.

Soon, we all went out for the day. We went somewhere for lunch and I had a really nice chat to a guy I hadn’t really spoken to that much, who came and sat with Andrew and me.

Then we all went to a children’s playground, and this is where things started to go downhill. Initially the plan seemed to be for Andrew and I, and maybe a couple of others to go on ahead for a walk, but then Andrew seemed to decide we should in the playground instead.

Although the weather was sunnier than forecast, it turned out to be really windy. I fucking hate the wind. It messes up my hair and it’s the most aggressive and unreasonable weather in my opinion. It had looked deceptively sunny so I was only wearing a sundress and denim jacket with sandals.

I tried to get into the playground thing and Andrew and I went on the swings, but I was cold. No one was really talking to me and I got a bit fed up, after standing around for a long time.

I felt quite physically uncomfortable and restless but didn’t realise until later that day that I was starting to get a bit ill.

I didn’t mind too much, as I thought it was completely reasonable that the kids were playing in the playground, but I was glad when we finally moved on.

We then all went for a brief walk to a canal and weir. This was nice, but we probably spent about 7 times longer standing around by the canal than I would’ve done on my own.

A couple of times I tried to join in some conversations but everything got back onto children before I had a chance.

For example, someone pointed out one of the Dads had really dry skin on his hands, and suggested some hand cream.

Great, I can join in! I’ve got loads of dermatology and hand cream chat!

But before I had a chance, he said, “it’s from having kids, because you have to wash your hands a lot more.”

Then I felt like I couldn’t really say the thing I’d been going to say, as I don’t have kids.

Then there was a conversation about having more aches and pains as we get older.

Brilliant! I’ve got loads of materials about this! Shall I start with my clicky knees, or…

“It’s just from picking up my children!” One of the Dads said.

Never mind.

Another lowlight was when Andrew’s closest friend from the group came over and they started talking about the barbecue we were having later, and then it got onto a barbecue they had as teenagers, when a prank meant someone nearly got injured by a barbecue.

I wasn’t completely following the story but the friend cheerily said that someone’s parent who was a medic had taken him to one side afterwards, and said him about burns victims he’d treated.

The conversation stressed me out a bit, because obviously it reminded me of my ex-boyfriend dying in a fire. I probably just stood with a forced smile on my face, while trying to pretend I was somewhere else.

Afterwards, Andrew whispered that he was sorry but none of his friends knew my backstory.

“It’s OK,” I said. “Did you notice when we visited my parents and my Mum went on that really long thing about her hairdresser’s house burning down? They totally know I hate talking about it but she still went on about it for ages!”

Eventually we left the canal and went back to where our cars were parked. I had heard people saying we were heading to ‘the house’, and I was excited because I wasn’t feeling great.

I think at the point I was just knackered and cold, but I really wanted to have a quick lie-down to make up for the terrible night’s sleep and to warm up.

But then, it transpired ‘the house’ was actually a National Trust property we were going to look around instead.

Never mind, it will just be great to get out of the wind! I thought.

We stood around just outside the car park waiting for the rest of the group to catch up for what felt like a really long time.

God I really want to get out of the fucking gale force winds, I thought. I did up my denim jacket as much as I could, and tried to decide whether to have my hair down for extra warmth, or up, to stop it getting whipped and pelted around my face.

Eventually, everyone caught up. I was so happy to be back in the warm car. (I didn’t have my car, otherwise I might’ve made a bid for freedom. We were getting a lift with another couple.)

After only a few minutes, we parked at the National Trust place.

And we went and stood around in the car park there.

We were waiting for the other half of the group, who had driven in but disappeared.

FOR FUCK’S SAKE CAN WE STOP STANDING AROUND IN THE WIND!!!!! I thought.

We stood around, solemnly staring at someone’s toddler. People piped up with comments about the child, but I had nothing to say. The only thing I could think of was the baby had a real goblin quality, but I decided to keep it to myself.

“I tell you what,” I said with fake cheerfulness. “Shall we go on ahead and meet you guys in there?”

“Oh, no, I’m sure the others will catch us up in a minute!” Someone replied.

I shifted around from foot to foot and nodded sadly.

I was cold and bloody bored. It felt like all I’d done for hours was stand around in a tornado being ignored, watching people stare at their boring children.

I’m on the cusp of having a massive fucking meltdown.

“I’m actually getting pretty cold, now I think about it. Maybe we should crack on or at least wait inside?” I tried again.

“Not everyone is going inside the house, some of us are just looking around the gardens. I’m sure the others will get here in a minute!”

“Why do you want to go inside?” Andrew said quietly to me.

“Because I’m really cold and bored,” I replied. I said it quietly, but it’s possible people standing next to us heard.

Andrew gave me his coat. I appreciated the gesture, but this is the coat I always take the piss out of, because it’s not a proper coat.

Throughout winter, he always turns up on my doorstep, shivering and blue with cold, wearing just a T-shirt and this North Face pack-a-mac.

“It’s great if you want to go on the log flume at Alton Towers, but it’s got absolutely no warmth in it! It’s like a millimetre thick!” I always say, ushering him into my flat and covering him in blankets.

I wandered a few feet away, so I was out of the shade and in the sun, which kept coming out and then going back in.

Andrew came and held my hand but really tightly, in a cross way, like I was dog that might run onto a dual carriageway.

He told me to wait in quite a paternal, disapproving way.

Eventually, the rest of the group showed up.

It was agreed that we would go our separate ways and meet up a bit later.

When we were on our own, I told Andrew I was sorry for getting pissed off, but I was so cold and found it a bit unbearable, standing around for no reason.

He seemed OK about it, and we had a really nice time.

We walked around the grounds of the house, which were more sheltered from the wind, and it was warmer because we were moving.

We found a bit of garden with a swing seat, and we sat on that for a long time, chatting at great length, talking about his uni friends and some of my friends.

I felt much happier, and warmer, but then, sitting on the swing seat, I suddenly felt like I’d stood up too quickly, even though I was sitting down.

It felt like a time when I nearly fainted during a blood test. I felt like lightheaded, and like the world was spinning.

I sat with my head between my knees and it passed after a few minutes, but then I felt like I was going to be sick.

I wasn’t, and after a while I felt a bit better, so we carried on.

We had a quick look around the house, which had amazing chandeliers and four poster beds, and then it was time to rejoin the others.

“I thought the garden was so lovely, and it reminded me of Alice in Wonderland!” I said cheerfully, when the nicest guy in the group asked me how we’d got on.

He looked a bit surprised at my renewed enthusiasm, and I realised I probably had come across quite pissed off earlier.

“Do you feel better for a break from small children?” He laughed.

“Oh, err…” I stammered.

“It’s fine to say yes!” He added, in a really nice way.

We got back to our cars, and I decided to go back with a nice couple from the group who offered me a lift, as Andrew was going with our drivers to the supermarket.

I had a nice chat to them on the drive home. I was in the back with their baby and managed to stop it from crying by jiggling a toy around.

When we got back to our house, I got into bed for a power nap.

I just couldn’t get warm, and my legs felt achy.

I was just drifting into a nap when Andrew got back. He went and made me some tea.

A bit later, I got up. Some people were getting things ready for the barbecue.

Andrew was helping two other guys set up the barbecue, and I sat with a couple of the friendliest wives and chopped vegetables.

I got into a good conversation with the other coeliac about gluten-free food.

I realised I wasn’t feeling well. I was really cold despite having put much warmer clothes on and being indoors, and I felt a bit shaky and sick.

After a while, the other two women started talking at great length about their babies – what positions they sleep (which I’m sure we’d already covered the night before), baby monitors and how they came up with their babies’ names.

It seemed like Andrew was so absorbed in the barbecue that he’d forgotten he had a girlfriend, until the food was ready, and everyone went outside to eat. He looked slightly surprised but pleased to see me.

One of the guys had specifically brought an extra little barbecue for me and the other coeliac, so our food wouldn’t be contaminated, which I thought was really lovely.

I realised I was going to struggle to eat, because of feeling sick. I had turned down any alcohol (possibly for the first time in my life) and was just drinking a mug of hot water.

I went and got another jumper as I felt shaky and cold.

I started to eat, but it was struggle to get food down. Because of the gluten-free thing, lots of food had been cooked specifically for me. I felt between torn seeming rude by not eating and making myself feel sicker.

People were talking about the barbecue, and someone relayed back a joke that their firefighter friend had made about burning food on barbecues and how it was like having to identify dead bodies from fires by their dental records.

I went back inside to get my winter coat, as I was so cold. Andrew followed me in, as he knew the fire joke would’ve touched a nerve for me. He gave me a hug in the kitchen and I was surprised when I was burst into tears.

I told him how sick I felt and I didn’t know what to do about the food that had been cooked for me.

“Just eat what you can and play around with the rest,” he said.

We went back out and I was about annoyed he moved his chair slightly further away from mine, so he could get more stuck into the guys’ chat at the table.

I was sitting at the end of the table with all the women, and listened to a long conversation about caesareans and tearing.

After a while, I’d stopped eating and my stomach hurt, so I thought fuck this and went inside.

I was relieved to get back in bed and lie on my stomach.

A bit later, Andrew came and found me. I was about tearful and emotional, maybe because I felt ill.

He was keen for me to rejoin the group, but I just wanted to lie down.

“I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to you!” I said.

I knew he’d been looking forward to introducing me to the group for months, and it just wasn’t going that well.

Much later, everyone came inside and was playing some games, and again, he was keen for me to get up and join them.

It wasn’t the most sick I’ve ever felt, I just felt a bit nauseous and I wasn’t sick. I normally have diarrhoea at the drop of a hat, but for once I didn’t – I kept thinking I needed the toilet but then I didn’t. I felt a bit achy, cold and spaced out.

I did have a nice time playing games with everyone, although my stomach was a bit noisy.

We played Werewolf and a game called Mind which I knew quite well from a board game night I go to, so occasionally I piped up with advice.

We went to bed.

On the Sunday I felt a bit better, but my stomach hurt after eating lunch.

At Sunday lunchtime I chatted to a few of the guys at the barbecue, and that was probably the best chat of the weekend.

Andrew’s closest friend of the group, Jim, was cooking. When I went over and he asked me what my job is, I realised it was the first time he’d actually spoken to me, all weekend, even though I’d lent his family my hairbrush on the first night, as I overheard them saying they’d forgotten theirs, when his wife was bathing their daughters.

I thought it was a bit weird he hadn’t spoken to me sooner. His wife was the one who hadn’t even looked at me when we first arrived on the Friday night (and annoyingly, the one who overheard the ‘fucking up the arse’ comment).

Anyway, I enjoyed chatting to him and a couple of the other lads.

He said he’s a Maths teacher, when we talked about our jobs.

“Oh.” I said.

“That’s the usually the end of the conversation, when I say it’s Maths I teach!” He laughed.

I scrabbled around in my brain for something to say about Maths.

“Do you think it would be better if our numbers system was based around 12 instead of 10?”

I couldn’t believe I’d pulled that out of the bag.

We had a nice chat, which the friendliest guy also joined in as well, occasionally making fun of Andrew. I wished the whole weekend had been like that.

8 thoughts on “I’m fucking you up the arse – do you like it?

  1. Every time you post about him I get a feeling things aren’t quite right between you. I hope things change for the better, but I fear they will not

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Well I have to say the whole weekend sounds like a disaster to me! I wouldn’t been as well behaved as you, I fear, especially with all the kids and kidtalk. Boring!! On the whole it seemed to me that they didn’t welcome you very much or go out of their way to get to know you or to make you feel included. Big groups are not a great way to get to know people anyway, and I don’t think you’d be chafing at the bit to do it again? As for Andrew, I’d have expected better from him, so now I’m feeling a little fearful of this next post you mentioned!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I agree with the Cougar – big groups are hardly the best place to meet new folks – especially with kids involved. Parents focus in on their kids, established friends stick together, it’s hard to invest the time needed to get to know someone. Perhaps smaller groups would be more conducive to getting to know people – even with kids involved.

    Hope the next weekends go better for everyone!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: The aftermath of ‘the National Trust meltdown’ | Dater Analysis

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