Valentine's Day
Our first one as a couple. I received a card with a dirty thumbprint in it (he was a marine engineer).

His nephew's girlfriend asked me that evening if I'd liked the card she'd chosen. Apparently he'd been "too busy" to go and choose one himself - too busy playing with his remote control cars.

Why did I let that relationship go on for five years? It all ended in tears.
(Freakmandu, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 15:59, 7 replies)

Hmm why
I have a number of reasons why the relationship failed.

1. He was a bit of a celebrity and had come from a wealthy family so he always was away mingling with people or photographed flirting with women much better looking than me. Naturally I was bound to get a little jealous.

2. The mood swings, when he wasn’t looking like an airhead in front of the press he could go from charming to broody in the company of certain mates of his.

3. The anger was also an issue, he never raised a hand to me but I once saw him beat the living crap out of a bloke who was dancing with me (True I wasn’t too happy with the creep who was swinging me round but he really did a number on the poor sod).

4. The lack of time we actually managed to spend together he was either out most nights (I think we only managed to see him a number of times in our last month together).

5. The issue he had with his parents, Jesus the number of times he went on about his mum and dad really did start to grate on me, maybe I’m just a little jealous because I am not really close to my folks (They hated their daughter working for a newspaper)

6. The kinky shit he was into. Man I thought that I was a bit risqué but this guy really went to town on the whole PVC stuff and not just in the bedroom!

Better leave it for that now as he probably will find out about this and be pissed. He is the world’s greatest detective you know.Love Vicki Vale
(mon bison powered by magnets, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 15:16, 3 replies)

Payback
I'm not one for revenge or spite. So, when I'd broken up with the batshit-mentalist who cheated on me, I just got on with my life. In fact, we're still friends.

But one thing did bother me: a really annoying bloke that she'd become friends with shortly before we split up was always glomming on to me, trying to be all matey and inviting himself along to clubs etc with me and my real friends. He was the kind of bloke who makes you want to have a shower after spending any time with him, and very hard to get rid of - the human equivalent of slug slime.

I made a few enquiries, and confirmed a suspicion I'd had for a while. The next time he bounded up to me in a club, and tried to worm his way into my group, I looked him in the eye and said in a loud voice, "Look, Tom, I know you shagged my girlfriend behind my back, so I really don't think we're ever going to be mates, do you?"

The look on his face was almost worth the months of pain and chaos she gave me. He clearly had no idea that I knew. Funnily enough, when I see him these days, he gives no sign of recognising me...

Apologies for the merely tangential relevance, but it makes me smile even today
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 14:56, 2 replies)

Here I Sit
Broken hearted
Wanted to shit
But only farted.


I thank you.
(ParaSitius is an Optimistic Pessimist, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 14:38, 7 replies)

Tore my heart out & showed me, Mola Ram style.
1st time poster,long-time lurker so be gentle - unlike the whorebag to be mentioned.
I was young, naive & overlooked OCD (3hrs to choose a shade of red paint? No, that's normal darling...isn't it?) and haughty disdain because she was way above my usual gfs/random shags. And no, alarms didn't ring at why such an attractive woman would be single.
A lot.
Shall I mention spending weekends at hers (still living at home at this point, early twenties), arriving on a Friday evening and being told Saturday afternoon I had to leave as "I was in the way and you stop me doing stuff I need to do because you're so fucking slow at walking and just want to hang out all day".

Er..I thought that's what couples did? Aaaaanyways...I got screamed at for not spending the weekend at her flat looking after her new kitten when I was supposed to be recording with my band (was ok for her to go out with her mates though). Was ordered home Saturday afternoons as mention, until she started acting lessons across London and needed somebody to ferry her to and fro. Suddenly I'm allowed to stay the whole weekend. Or drive her up to Manchester so she could buy a motorbike.

It slowly dragged on for about 18months with me unable to see I was a weak-willed doormat of a chap and she was a domineering uncaring witchfuck. The clincher?
A friend she used to work with that she had never spoken of before invited her to Washington DC for the weekend to see his new place that came with his new job.
I wasn't invited at all, "because you couldn't afford the flight" apparently. Steaming angry at myself for putting up with this treatment, I agreed to pick her up when she got back.
Except she wasn't on the return flight. Came back 3 days later and told me I had no right to be upset as "nothing happened anyway".

Huge row, I was starting to finally stand up for myself and she was shocked I had actually got upset at last.
And 3 days later was her work xmas party.
I got to look after her kitten as she went off and got drunk and stayed in a hotel. Phone rings at 4am, and it's her sister in another country far,far away asking to speak to her.
Turned out her dad had died a few hours before and the task of telling her fell to me. But I didn't know where she was staying, she didnt think it mattered that I knew because it was her work party and no I wasn't invited as I "wouldn't enjoy it".

And now the hard part - I tracked her down and had to drive out to the hotel (near the seaside) to break the news her father had died during the night. Her boss tells me the room number (he knows as I spoke to him to get directions) and I head up, knocking on the door thinking how-the-fuck-do-I-tell-her?
Door opens...can you guess?...and bloke blinking hungover at me says sure she's there but sleeping, can I come back later?
18months of being ordered around, cheated on and emotionally assfucked came spilling out, all mixed in with self loathing at putting up with her shit.
"Ok mate" I say, shaking with adrenalin,"Tell her...ah...her sister rang, her dad died last night. And tell her she's a fucking bully and I should have grown a pair of balls ages ago. She needs to get to the airport as soon as possible, it's not my fucking problem anymore."
Bloke was dumbstruck, I exhaled like a freediver surfacing after 4mins and walked away.

Does it make me a bad person for not giving a fuck if she was ok? I know I was a pussy for putting up with many,many instances of being trodden on. Like I said, I was young (an old bastard of 38 now) and stupid, blinded by norks etc etc.
Never spoke to her again after leaving that hotel and genuinely don't give a flying toss if she was ok.

Apols for length of 1st post and lack of funnies.
Have had many shit relationships since, some good ones and am now quite cheerfully ensconded with Missus & Mini Blast.
And if *you* read this, I know it's been over 15yrs and a lot of water has passed.
I still hope you cried yourself dry on the plane over to bury your dad, you horrible horrible harpy.
(Blast_Tyrant uhhhhhh...., Tue 26 Oct 2010, 14:37, 27 replies)

To all the girls I've loved before...
You, who pretended to be a Christian when I got too horny at age 16, thanks – I still remember the taste of you. And you who, while going out with me, was seeing the biker you eventually married – I hope you didn't get cheated on too. And you, you dear old nutter, who dumped and reclaimed me three times before I finally got wise, I hope you made something of your art and are not now working in a prison. Oh, you are? Shame. And as for you, you drunken wretch – I hope you regret nearly blinding me in an argument about whether listening to reggae is racist if you aren't black. For fuck's sake. Did you eventually get yourself a black man? I hope so, and I hope you kicked the drink. Or died. And as for you, love of my life, when you finally get over your problems (because you will) and realise you were incredibly cruel to the man who loved you more than any other for 10 years – I hope you don't regret it too much, and find someone else really nice. Me, I'm okay, and settled with a splendid woman who is probably not psychotic and hopefully appreciates the man I've learned to become through endless, wonderful love and war. Bless you all. (Sorry, I haven't invented a new term for breasts yet. Bear with me, I'm new). Cock.
(Valentine_Sprake immanentising the eschaton since 1983, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 13:04, 32 replies)

Not me, honest
Was driving home one night round about Valentine's day 2009 and heard this tale on an Edinburgh radio phone-in.

A girl calls in:

Girl: "Ah'm goin' tae propose tae ma man the night. He listens to your show every night so I've just come oot tae sit in the car and phone in secret. Do you think he'll say yes?"

Radio presenter: "Well, how long have you been together?"

Girl: *sounding evasive* "Oh, . . eh . . . .a long time now."

RP: "How long is a long time?"

Girl: "Well . . . . . Ages. I've asked him before, twice, but he said no both times."

RP: "Well that's not a good sign. Do you feel you're ready to get married?"

Girl: "Oh aye. I've been there, done that. I've seen it all and I'm finally ready to settle down."

RP: "How old are you?"

Girl: "22"

RP: "You've seen everything life has to offer at just 22?"

Girl: "Oh aye. Done it all and I'm ready to settle down."

RP: "You said you asked him before. How long had you been together when you first asked him to marry you?"

Girl: "We'd been together three months. he said no. I asked again after 5 months and he said no again."

RP: "And how long have you been together now:"

Girl: "6 Months."

RP: "You said he listens to the show every night. Do you think he's inside listening now?

Girl: "I know he is."

RP: "Ok, well perhaps you should go inside and talk to him."

Girl: "Good idea. I'll go ask him and see if he says yes this time."

RP: "Well, . . . . .. erm . . .good luck."

Girl: "Aye, cheers. I'll phone you back and tell you his answer."

*Click*


Sadly I never did hear the end of the show, but answer in replies if you remember this story. I'd love to find out how it ended, though I can probably guess
(Barry Subchimp, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 13:03, 8 replies)

Why did i ever get with her.
A few years i ended up getting into a relationship with a girl who had just tried to steal my girlfriend. I'm now starting to believe i went through some sort of breakdown during this period. Other than the obvious question to why the fuck would i get with this girl, who had basically just ruined my 3 year relationship but also the fact i allowed myself to put up with this:

1) Being told to shush the grownups are talking everytime we were around her friends.

2) Being shouted at an inch away from my face and hit continuously for not agreeing with the slightest thing.

3) Everytime we went out she would find the biggest dickhead in the place and proceed to get off with him infront of me.

3) Having my phone & keys taken away from me during arguements so i couldn't escape her.

4) Her cheating on me and then changing her story to that she was raped after seeing my negative reaction to her cheating.

Eventually i called my friend too many times to come get me and she refused to allow me to change my mind. So the next day she came to get me and saved me from quite possibly being murdered.
(Drbunsen, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 12:59, 6 replies)

When I got this answer phone message:
“Hey...er... oh I’d hoped to speak to you but you must be in work... Sorry to leave this message. Well, erm... remember I called you last night? And I was a bit drunk? Well I sort of got a lot more drunk. And I lost my friends.... but I got a lift home from these three random guys. Erm... well I thought they were a taxi and one of them had really cute eyes so I let him shag me on the back seat... and then then I kind of drunkenly figured that the other two would feel left out so I let them shag me too. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I felt really guilty this morning so I went to see my ex-ex-boyfriend.... and I’ve sort of shagged him too. Erm. Sorry?”
(Zapiola zip-zap-zop, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 12:53, 24 replies)

That bitch, she crazy!!
Not me but a friend started seeing a girl from Tunisia. He had only been seeing her for a couple of weeks and she was engaged to one of those genuine autistic math's geniuses, who was always away in Switzerland earning silly amounts, leaving her to fuck her way through most of my town and she knew she would never be caught because genuine autistics can be very trusting, it is there blessing and curse (truly felt sorry for this guy). At first I thought this girl, at best was a bit quirky, at worst a bit weird. I started to notice her weirdness when she told us more about her family....now her father was a surgeon and so from a young age she always wanted to follow in his footsteps, this came to a head when she stole some chloroform and a scalpel from her dads surgery and wanted to perform an operation on her little brother, in other words cut the drugged up kid and start messing around with his internal organs, you know like doctor and nurses, BUT FOR REAL!!!

Now he was wise to his sisters insanity and got the hell out of there while he could, so instead she decided to knock her cat out and cut open her cat, now I like cats, so by this point I was not best pleased with the way this story was going, she had probably killed it by giving it chloroform in the first place. So she finally cut the cat open and apparently stitched it back up, was it o.k. I asked? Yes she replied he is still alive today!.....but something didn't quite add up because she had told us she did this when she was about 9 years old and now she was on the favorable side of 40, so this cat would have been around 31 years old at least!! Now although I didn't have any hard evidence it seemed fairly clear because of her lies that she had indeed disemboweled her own cat :O My mate just didn't register any of this and continued on with the relationship, despite my warnings, until one night he awoke slightly startled.

This crazy bitch had both his balls cupped in her hands and was squeezing them, whilst looking at him in a very strange psychotic way and on her bedside table there was a razor sharp knife just lying there......needless to say he got the fuck out there as soon as possible, he missed her but only because of the filthy sex she liked.

Why is it always the nutters that are good in bed eh??
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 12:36, 6 replies)

First love.
When I was eight, I bought her polos to prove my devotion. She took them, ate them and stole mine too.
She then went and kissed another boy! With fresh, minty breath that was mine by right! The minty jezebel!
Snakes with tits, I tells ya.
(universalpsykopath loves what you've done with your hair., Tue 26 Oct 2010, 12:17, 12 replies)

Lovely girl
It was our second Valentine's day and she came home from work with a massive bunch of roses. "Thank you so much!" she cried, hugging me close. I was out of work at the time, and had to confess that they weren't from me. Turns out they were from a guy she worked with.

Obviously I wasn't happy, and said that this guy obviously had designs on her. I'd appreciate it if she didn't encourage him. She said she hardly ever spoke to him anyway, and she certainly wasn't socialising with him.

Except she was, behind my back, for a couple of years until I came home unexpectedly to find them together in our flat. There was an argument to say the least, and we broke up not long after. They got married and they live in Mexico now. I hear from mutual friends she hates it there, but can't leave because he bought her the dog she always wanted, so she's stuck there for the lifespan of the dog. Oh, and a friend of hers on facebook tells me she's got really fat lately.

Bitter? Moi?
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 11:25, 14 replies)

the sex was amazing, it really was. however...
i realised it couldn't go on when i woke up one night to see her sitting next to the bed playing with an 8inch lock knife.
i carefully closed my eyes and pretended i was asleep, counting the seconds til morning...
( blaireau69 , the Cumbrian Travis Bickle., Tue 26 Oct 2010, 10:40, 6 replies)

Not me, a friend...
Had to end it with a girlfriend having stated that, due to her complete lack of curves in the chesticles region, or anywhere for that matter, he got an image of "fucking a boy/man from behind" in his head and couldn't shake it loose.

It was particularly awkward as we all worked together. I found it difficult to look her in the face after that.
( Another_tragic_case wished he hadn't eaten all the cake, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 9:35, 5 replies)

Finished me off.
The magic was gone the moment I'd come.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 9:26, Reply)

A tale of two crappy relationships?
I will admit that this is pretty epic and may not put me in a good light but it is the way it happened and I’m not too bothered about your opinion I have made my mistakes and can live with them. Flame away if you want I can take it, I’m always prepared for the worst.

I started to become attracted to S quite a while back, she was great, funny and seemed to get along with me pretty well. The only downside was that she worked for me and was also in a pretty long term thing with an acquaintance I shall call T.

T was a bloke who was the polar opposite of me, we had been mates at one point but had really drifted apart (hence why I called him an acquaintance earlier). By this point in my life I valued my career and took a mature and businesslike approach to most things he would spend his time reading comics or playing with his toys (Collectable figurines was a name he liked to give them but really they were sodding kids toys) – he also had no real aims in life and seemed to just bumble along doing bugger all.

One night S was working late with me and she mentioned that she was having problems at home and was getting sick of him being immature and she was slowly falling for another bloke. To cut this epic tale short that bloke was me, we started off with an affair that eventually led to her asking me to start a proper relationship with her. What I didn’t realise was the nutter that T was hiding behind his slacker demeanour.

Firstly he set himself up in a house with another woman, and attempted to get S back. The thought of living without S seemed to have unhinged him a little as the next time we met ended with me in the back of an ambulance with my knackers in extreme pain. I also had my car vandalized and was beaten up thanks to him. A few months later and he appeared to move on, but what I didn’t realise was that I should have paid attention to S.

This woman who ditched her bloke for a more mature man had decided that I wasn’t really what she wanted and ditched me too. It turns out that the whole time I had been seeing her she had been also leading T on with false hopes of getting back together sending him letters and calling him on the telephone. S had enjoyed the attention she received from him. and the vain bitch was also pretty jealous that T had moved straight in with another woman.

Anywhoo T must have seen sense in his time away and told S to sod off (rumour has it that he started into a relationship with the lass he was shacked up with and had a daughter that he tried to call Luke, hope that this isn’t true that’s a horrid name for a girl). As she was left with no other person to feed her ego S decided to come crawling back to me. Naturally I took her back because I love her and you may call me stupid for doing so but I don’t care because I'm Duane Benzie.

Gotta go, the telephones ringing.

Usual apologies for length and deep voice.
(mon bison powered by magnets, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 9:22, 6 replies)

If you are the youngest child in your family...
..you are responsible for the actions of your older siblings and parents. No, I didn't know this either until one ex felt compelled to point it out to me after she had fallen out with them over some innocuous perceived insult. Didn't last too much longer, apparently it is also one's responsibility to sort out other peoples' arguments in this situation and not to do so means "you clearly don't love me enough". Funny how she got that bit right!
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Tue 26 Oct 2010, 8:11, Reply)

As a direct question to the Women out there...
Is it true you get taken aside whilst at school and taught how to conduct (i.e. win) arguments?

This is the only bit of my relationship which really pisses me off. My wife is able to recall every minor misdemeanour i've done for the past 20 years, along with every off-the-cuff remark which she doesn't agree with - and can integrate them into her argument at any moment.

Should i ever try the same, i'm told i'm making it up and "don't you remember..."?

It really cunts the fuck in my head.
( Another_tragic_case wished he hadn't eaten all the cake, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 7:46, 20 replies)

sewing
After getting into one of her almost daily shout-and-tear-fests at something or other, probably the fact that I quite clearly wanted the bitch to die, she engaged in her usual bout of self-destruction. Usually it was jewellery but this time she ripped a hole in the stuffed duck she'd left at mine.

Immediately regretful of what she'd done, she started to sob more and wanted to patch up the gargantuan hole she'd left. Asking for a needle and thread, she was upset to find I didn't have any, or at best had not a clue as to its location. So she decided to create a makeshift one to repair her mess.

I found it today.



Yeah.
(ratthingbazzterd, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 7:23, 4 replies)

She wanted me to choke her while she called me "Daddy".
Now, I'm rather partial to some kinky sex, but there's kinky and there's absolutely fucking batshit mental.

Last I heard, she'd married someone else and persuaded him that spawning was a good idea.
( flake has nothing against your right leg, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 1:22, 9 replies)

Mrs Legless

My phone is set-up with custom ring-tones assigned to various people. For example, one bloke, who only rings me when he has a problem, is set to Yoda saying "A message from the darkside there is..." A hospital I do a lot of work for is the theme from Holby City. You get the idea.

But I can't help thinking that the missus would be justified in giving me the boot as I've changed her ringtone from Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" to the much better "They're Taking The Hobbits To Isenguard"

Who says romance is dead?


Cheers

P.S. Mrs Legless is just under 5 feet tall


( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 1:21, 6 replies)

Got in a maasive mood....
....cos I said childbirth was a doddle. It's not like Crucifiction now is it?
( The only Dave is pushing things forward, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 0:38, 2 replies)

Silent treatment
She didn't speak to me for three days because I was mean to her IN A DREAM.
( Beve The Spaniard broke off his horse's head, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 0:09, 32 replies)

Enough of dickhead men getting away with it
I was enjoying a lovely BBQ with my Mum during the Summer just past, when I heard a couple, shouting and screaming and crying, coming down the alleyway by my front garden. I immediately bolted up right, fight or flight I suppose, but from a young age I had very strong views on what should happen to guys that abuse women. Mother dear noticed and warned me not to get involved (which I thought strange at the time), but a friend of mine was due to arrive any minute so I bolted round the corner to find a guy dragging his girlfriend my the arm, shouting abuse at her, demanding she get "back in the fucking house the fucking slag." All that.

Just like a previous poster, I somehow found myself in this guys face telling him what I think of him (not much, would you believe), but he easily had 3 inches height on me (now, I'm 6'1, but this guy was big. Rugby big). The moment he let go of the girl she sprinted, crying, for his family's house. My mate appeared, and dickhead-man backed down like a coward and stormed off in a huge rage.

A few hours later, the guys Dad and brother knock on the door, apologising profusely. They had to call the police on him at the end, their own son and brother, I can't imagine the shame he brought on them.

Moral of this story- if you have the opportunity to intervene, use your sound judgement, and then do it anyway. Whether the girl/woman is crying aloud or not, she might be breaking inside. The dickhead in this story could easily have broken my face in, but it's the control they get off on, he wasn't looking for a real fight.
(MunchMyBalloons, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 23:38, 13 replies)

I woke up, as daylight finally forced my eyelids apart.
She was coiled against me, the curve of her spine pressing into my chest. My arm was loosely draped around her waist, fingertips spread over her belly. Short, spiked pink hair tickled my nose. I shifted slightly, and the sun highlighted the angle of her cheekbones, reflected off the piercings in her ears. Cautiously, I eyed the stubble that covered the side of her skull, vague memories of running my fingers through it surfacing from another night long past.

We'd fallen into bed at about six in the morning; an unexpected night with unexpected friends and the accompanying alcohol. A set of events that ended up in a late dinner or early breakfast, small talk and music until the sun came up. All very prosaic, though no doubt what we talked was utter bollocks, and the music solely served to annoy the neighbours downstairs.

In that moment, I was content. No matter that, well, we usually described her as "the mental one", and that on yet another night I'd found myself staring down the wrong end of a two on one fight through the bizarre chain of circumstance that seemed to wind its way around her (I'd later find out that if the violence had gone from impending to actual, I'd have had support from a crack addict with a knife in his sleeping bag - but thankfully such events didn't come to pass).

From knives in a sleeping bag, though, we circle back to the tale. Either the light or my own sleepy movement of weight had awoken her. We exchanged the usual morning pleasantries, though her communication seemed slightly strained. A hangover, chemical or not, I assumed. Of course, your common or garden morning pleasantries do not often extend to sitting bolt up right in bed; at least in my experience they do not. Nor do they extend to a quick movement of her hand under the covers, and the production of a rather large and freshly sharpened knife. I knew it was freshly sharpened, for it had recently lived in the knife rack in my kitchen.

I know not how it had come to be in the tights she wore that night, but I can guess. I certainly know how it came to rest on the pillow next to me, as she laid it there and stared at it. I alternately stared at the knife and her, unsure.

Finally, she spoke.

"Well, you can never be too safe," was what she told me. Shakily, I nodded in response, and watched her slender body saunter over to the computer to put on some music. The knife I quickly stowed away, and the cold sweat around my testicles I left well alone.

As soon as was reasonable, I managed to persuade her to leave my house. For my own part, I went straight to the fucking pub, wherein I was informed by a helpful member of staff that I do, after all, look a bit rapey.

I didn't see her again.

I met a different friend in the pub ten minutes later. As I went to give her a hug, her rape alarm went off.
( gone, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 23:36, 4 replies)

Okay, given some of the whining, I need to post this
I knew it was over when the doctor told us they ran out of options to fight her cancer and it was a matter of time.

Yet still life has gone on for nine years now.

BTW, I never got as many blowjobs as after I was "widowed" by my fiancee. Apparently, it's a form of comforting for some women.

edit: point is, some here need to get on with their lives. And as only one person who posted here seems able to read, many women offered oral sex as a way of comforting me. Weirdness, but after a while, one takes them up on it.
(ChiTown Guy Dating when 35+: sane, single, attractive - pick 2, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 19:40, 4 replies)

Not a nutter
She wasn't, she was a lovely girl to be honest but it soon became obvious that I wasn't her boyfriend but a father substitute and that is just not right when you are sleeping with someone. *shivers*
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Mon 25 Oct 2010, 18:15, 5 replies)

Not me but...
A family member complained to the folk living in the flat above them that their noisy daytime romps were playing havoc with her sleep (shift worker). The husband chose that moment to explain..."but I'm not home during the day!"

The same could not be said for his wife. I believe that may have triggered some relationship issues.
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Mon 25 Oct 2010, 18:12, 4 replies)

Sometimes you wonder why....
I'm remarkably lucky. I know that. I've been with the girl who is now my wife for nearly 14 years and we agree sufficiently closely on all of life's major issues that there's rarely something we can't work out amicably enough. However, I had the misfortune of having a glimpse of another relationship the other day and it made me realise just how bad it does get for some people.

I was coming home on the train about 3 weeks ago after one of the worst days of my life.* It was dark out but not late - maybe 8:30 ish and I got into a virtually empty carriage. Also joining the train in my carriage were a couple who got on through the other doors. They had been making some noise on the platform but some was cross sounding and some obvious laughter so I just thought they were having a slight disagreement in an otherwise pleasant evening.

As we started moving, their discussion progressed to becoming quite heated. They moved onwards to cross and through positively angry until they were raging at each other full-out about who was trying to get whom back on crack and whose rehab clinic was about be told about which particular transgression or proclivity. All this time (perhaps only 10 minutes or so) I sat with my back to them in the seat I had chosen to not overlook them in the nearly empty carriage and thought to myself that it was really none of my business and that I had already had a crappy enough day as it stood.

What followed I still find hard to believe on several counts. I could tell from the voices that they were both now standing, shouting at each other from close quarters but then suddenly there was a ringing slap and a woman's cry. I looked around to see the woman getting up from the seat and I stood myself, thinking at least that with an obvious witness the guy would hold off touching her again. But no. With another whole-arm slap to the face he knocked her back onto the seat again, shouting all the while.

I would have said that faced with that situation I would have been wracked with indecision. Should I become involved and risk being attacked by the pair of them? Should I shout out that I would call the police if he continued, or should I perhaps just let them get on with it and just be glad it wasn't me? In fact, the next thing I knew I was an inch or two from the guy's face, fists raised and shouting with the sort of ferocity I would never have imagined I possessed. Now I'm not a heavily built guy but I had several inches in height on this bloke and I suspect the near-insane rage that my terrible day and his behavior had engendered was probably showing. We were, fortunately, approaching a station and while I am pleased to say that I didn't touch the guy, he clearly got the hint that he wasn't welcome as I shouted that I would f'ing kill him from a distance of about 3 inches. God knows what I was thinking. Anyway, he jumped out at the station, swearing and shouting that he would shop this girl to her rehab clinic for something or other and we continued on our way.

Now every story has two sides and I only heard one, but I'm not really that worried about a balanced account from a bloke who hits his girl on trains. After the guy had gone I spoke to the girl for a while, as much to be sure she was OK as anything. Apparently this is a guy who "loves" her, but who cheats on her, tries to get her back onto hell-knows what and then threatens to report her to her rehab group so that she'll get thrown out of that if she doesn't do whatever he wants. Another guy had appeared when things kicked off and the two of us tried to say to her that a bloke who would slap her around in public view didn't know what it meant to love someone but she must have been told that many times before. She had 4 kids apparently, so I can only hope the lot of them are well away from him.

So there you go. You may be in a crappy relationship but at least (s)he doesn't slap you about on a train, try to get you hooked on crack again and undermine your attempts to get yourself straight, all the time telling you how much he loves you. And if (s)he does, please, for the kid's sake if not your own, get the hell out while you still can.

Standard apologies apply.

* Really
( Ugi , it's a game of give and cake, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 17:55, 7 replies)