I sure can pick them
Before K*ren www.b3ta.com/questions/relationships/post926132 there was another girl i went out with.

Another slightly long one, so posted it in replies if anyone gives a monkeys....
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 10:07, 4 replies)

I Hate Turkey
I had been going out with her mate whilst studyin for the merchant navy at college. She was totally nuts as far as i remembered, a mate went with her for a while and he rang me twice to come help as she was trying to slash her wrists. Both times were classic cry for help episodes (not even a blade drawn, just tears and locked bathroom doors). It was a few years later I got a Myspace(that fucking site again...) message saying hello and was i such and such who she used to know.

I looked at her pics and thought she's not that bad and shes got nice tits, lets meet up for a drink! A few months later and im driving to manchester most weekends to see her, its all going pretty good and normal. 6 months in and she re-finds religion, says from now on its no sex, no drinking and no swearing. That same night we're in my back garden, blitzed on mad cocktails, shagging on the sun lounger thingy....

The relationship by now has got pretty poor and with this night an exception its hard going. Distant, avoiding me, angry when i ask why... its ending and i know it. Something just wasnt right about it all though.

She's told me before she used to have annorexia and bulemia (spelling i know), and this is why her boobs look great in a bra but 1st hand theyre realllllly saggy. I sympathise completely, finally figuring out why she used to go crackers and threaten to off herself. A month after the 'New' God Deal, she tells me shes self harming again, throwing up and its all cos shes fat. Now there isnt a thing on her and although the relationship is below poor i stick with it.

Im not sure why but i felt responsible for her, her religious parents didnt really get what was going on and she'd pushed all her friends away so i saw myself as the only person who cared enough to battle through the shitstorm of eating disorders. It was awful, the emotional abuse, the physical struggles, the constant worrying.... i tried everything to help her but things just got worse.

We had already booked a holiday several months before and the date was looming. She said her mate wanted to take my place but i was desperate for a break and decided to go anyways, figuring some rest would do me good and i'd be damned if i was losing out on several hundred quid.

Bodrum, Turkey.

Party central apparently, but we were in the little bay of Gumbet and it was just along from Bodrum. The crappy little hotel wasnt great but there was a nice beach bar i was happy spending my days sat near. I ran up and down the beachfront twice a day to keep fit. I'd even become friends with a cocktail bar guy called Mufasa (think lion king, cool name) and my opinion of Turkish blokes started to change.

Then i started to notice the way the waiters/barmen looked at my now ex. They were respectful at first, commenting but polietly. Soon as they realised we were split up though they were calling in their friends and cousins, government officals came to verify it and then put up a national notice that there was a single english girl holidaying....

It became so uncomfortable i was glad I'd became friends with an irish family at a bar. I spent all the remaining nights with them drinking my sorrows away, while she (seemingly oblivious) was groomed by one waiter in particular. The day before we left i asked quite plainly if anything was going on, and she said they were just close friends. The last night she told me she was going clubbing with a this man and his friends. I was concerned as I'd seen and heard them talking at the bar about this girl they were taking clubbing, i told her and she exploded saying i was spoiling her fun and nothing was going to happen. They left and despite a very bad feeling in my gut i continued to drink with my irish friends.

An hour later the bar suddenly erupted in tears. She was back, crying her eyes out and saying something about how these men were trying to touch her up in the back of this car. I'd seen this guy at the bar and he looked like a really creepy greasy fucker, a grade A rapist if i'd had to give him a tag. He sat at the bar, grinning and boasting as if nothing had occured. I spoke across the bar, asking what had happened and his oily grin triggered something within me that ive never experience before or since. I flew into a rage, begun to move off my stool, round the bar when something pulled me back. The son of the Irish family was a very kind lad, but fucking huge. He had collared me and quickly but firmly said "not now". He motioned at the focus of my fury and I quickly spotted a glimmer, the bastard had pulled a blade out. The bar staff who had been the most friendliest people ever suddenly turned very nasty, and a few had their hands concealed as well.

Not overly keen on having my guts spilled all over the sand i gave the old "you'd better hold me back" whilst being so fucking happy the lad was still pulling me away. He said that while he'd like nothing better than to spread some noses beyond rhinoplasty he was not going to have his wife watch us get stabbed to bits.

The next day she was pals again with the waiter who'd left her in the car with half a dozen strangers, saying it was all some misunderstanding. I sat on the beach, didnt say a word to a soul and waited for the mini bus to take us to the hotel at 9pm.... it was a very long day in which i fully expected to be shanked while i wasnt looking. So look I did, behind my shades and book i was pretending to read.

I didnt speak to her all the way to the airport, on the plane, or in her mams car giving me a lift home. She rang me to say she was going back out to meet "John" and that they only realised after i'd pointed out that they were obviously getting it on, that they in fact liked each other. I told her plainly that it was a huge mistake and that was that.

She eventually emailed me saying she'd realised i was right and that she was sorry for all the hurt she'd caused me. By this point i was with my current missus, who I am due to marry next year, and i couldnt care any less :-)


I know there arent much funnies, but that holiday pushed me over the edge. Without it i probably would have continued to put myself in the firing line, sacrificing my happiness for a chance of healing her.

The Mental Bitch
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 10:07, closed)

You're right.
But I'll give it to them, they do seem to be much better at grooming...
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 10:48, closed)

thousands of years of practice
i would imagine
(Monkeystrumpet monkey. Monkey, MONKEY!!!, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 10:51, closed)

" and my opinion of Turkish blokes started to change."
Now after this little escapade, how is it now???
( 6821isnotmyPIN Bored cig., Mon 25 Oct 2010, 21:53, closed)