Friday, 2 April 2010

The Fate of the Womaniser

    Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
    Let's update that saying.
    Hell hath no fury like a woman who had been stood up for the billionth time in a row, left out in the rain, hungry and cold. Oh, believe me when I say that when this happens, there will be trouble. An hour of waiting on your own turns you from a dolled-up girl quite content with the world, to a wet mess seeking revenge.

    Hugo and I had been dating for a few weeks. Firstly, I should have taken my friends' advice and not dated someone called 'Hugo', and secondly, I should have seen from the very beginning how unreliable he really was.
    Since the very first time he asked me out problems started. It was a very lovely April morning and we were both walking to our lectures. We had always been flirty with one another so it was no real surprise when he asked me out. I replied with a coy 'yes' and we continued the rest of the walk holding hands. It was a picturesque romantic moment. Here I was on this beautiful Spring morning, walking alongside a gorgeous guy. As far as I recall we were walking along a fresh meadow, flowers all around us, butterflies fluttering their wings and birds were holding a heart-shaped frame with their beaks. Ahhh, perfection.
    I was completely in my own little dream world, and the only thing that shook me out of it was a sudden drop of my hand. Hugo had let go of it and was now walking towards a girl he had spotted a few feet away.  
    I follow, feeling a bit nervous as they're looking rather close. I don't want to interrupt what appears to be a reunion.
    "Hi," I say as I get nearer and introduce myself to the girl.
    "I'm Linda," she replies.
    Hugo looks rather uneasy, "Yeah," he begins. "We were just walking to Uni. She's just helping me with some studies," he explains to Linda.
    Wait, what?
    "Oh, that's a shame. I'm just heading to Starbucks. Was hoping for some company," she smiles at him like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, shoving her chest right in his view and touching his arm.
    Oh per-lease!!! I know that trick, I thought.
    "Well, actually I don't really need to do any work today. That can always wait," and before I know it I'm holding the book Hugo needed to return to the library and am standing there like a complete loser waving them off. What just happened?? Did my (sort of) boyfriend just ditch me for some bimbo???
    A couple of hours later I get a text saying: 'Sorry babe. She looked down like she needed company'.
    Oh yeah, she looked completely devastated from where I was standing. Moron!

    I should have stopped it right there and then but Hugo seemed to have a supernatural apologising power and I always forgave him. I forgave him when he didn't turn up as my date to my friend's party, and I even forgave him when he left me outside a MacDonald's because he needed 'to help Hannah and Faye fix their shower'. There were countless occasions like this - we would be heading out and abruptly he'd have a change of mind because some damsel in distress needed his urgent DIY skills.

    "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he apologised for the thousands time. "Let me take you out tomorrow night to that restaurant you love," he smiled at me, put his arms around me and suddenly it was like I was a gullible fifteen year old, lapping up every word.
    "OK," I smiled.

    The next evening I was so excited. I spent ages choosing the right dress, perfecting my make-up and selecting the most seductive perfume.
    My shoes click-clacked across the pavement as I made my way to the restaurant. Hugo had called me and said he made a reservation under his surname, so I said the name to the waitress who scanned her black book.
    "I'm sorry. We don't have you listed," she shakes her head and looks at me with pitiful, green eyes.
    "But I'm pretty sure a reservation was made," I tell her, not ready to back down.
    She shrugs her shoulders and dismisses me. "You can sit and wait there for him," she says pointing to a row of velvety red seats.
    "I'll wait outside," and walk out annoyed. I dig out my phone from my bag and search it for Hugo's number. I expect him to pick up and tell me that he's running late and he'll meet me soon, but it just goes straight to voicemail. I'm about to give up and walk home until a text from him arrives and says '2 minutes. Sorry babe.'
    See, I told you he'll be here, I tell my brain.
    Little rain droplets have now emerged from the sky. It's OK. Just a little water. He'll be here any second and before I know it we'll be inside in the warmth eating lots of lovely food.

    It's an hour later and Hugo still hasn't turned up. I'm soaking wet. My bag is dripping more water out of it than the sky, and my perfect curls are now just wet strands that keep sticking to my cheeks.
    I am not amused!!!
    I grab my phone and leave an abusive message to Hugo, and once I've let out that little bit of steam, call my friend to pick me up.  She's not surprised in the slightest when I tell her what happened.
    "So why did you wait for him for so long?" she asks.
    "Because the twat kept sending me texts every fifteen minutes saying that he was almost there,"
    "Shall I drive you home?" Jo asks.
    "No, can you take me to his place, please," I ask whilst holding my bag in front of the car heaters.

    We pull up outside his flat. And there is Hugo, smoking a cigarette on the steps whilst talking to three girls.
    "Babe!" he shouts out with a smile on his face as he sees me. "I was just about to head off and meet you," he tries to kiss me but I push him off.
    "I've been waiting for an HOUR!!" I scream.
    He seemed puzzled, like he hadn't quite grasped what on earth I could be shouting about.
    "Just got sidetracked. You know how things are," he tried to explain.
    I'm in such a rage that I can barely speak. I ask him if we can go somewhere private and talk but he says no. I can't blame him for that - with the state I was in I would have probably murdered him.
    "You can't keep promising one thing and then doing another. You can't just leave me outside a restaurant on my own," I tell him but nothing is getting through. It doesn't matter how much I explain to him that he was in the wrong, he just didn't get it. At one point I got so infuriated with him acting laid-back about it that I whacked him on the arm with my bag. It didn't do much - just a load of water squelched out onto his shirt.
    This was clearly going nowhere. This guy did not care about me at all. He was too much of a womaniser to be a reliable boyfriend and I was the idiot for not seeing it sooner. Even now that he could see how upset I was, he refused to leave his three female companions.
    It was like a glass had smashed and woken me up from my dazed state. I could see him completely clearly now. All his faults weren't cute, but incredibly annoying. I needed to get back at him.
    "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH DAVID!" I shouted out in full volume so that everyone could hear. The three girls immediately moved away from him and everyone had turned and was looking at us. "I should have seen it coming all along. You two were always abnormally close!" I continued angrily and turned towards the car to leave. It was a completely cheap shot but sooo worth it. His reputation with women did suffer for the next two years of university.

    PS) Come to think of it, I never did take that library book back.

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