DISCLAIMER: PLEASE READ

All Characters In This Said Piece Are Factual And Although You Might Not Be Named (And Righty So Shamed) You Are A Force To Be Reckoned In My Story.

Having Said That, Unless You Still Receive 3am Drunken Love Poems Via Electronic Mediums, You Were Unfortunately Just A Spur Of the Moment Obessession. Get.Over.It. Love. Bitterness And Angry Aint Pretty. Be Happy You Are Being Acknowledged.

No Men Were Intentially Or (That) Severly Injuried In The Events Of This Blog. Most Of You Asked For It And Enjoyed The Best Part Of The Experience.

As A Wise Man Once Said, What's Life Without Pain?

Saturday, 5 December 2009

Tell Jesus, The Bitch is Back

Mia has been away, where you ask? No where in particular, she's just been busy with life in general and had to put the Social Whoring on hold for a minute. However, as usual, there is always drama in her life and after a whirlwind week, she decided to kick start her creative juices and upload herself back into the world.

The last time Mia wrote, she was happily loved up with The Russian, having just celebrated her birthday and dealing with her psychotic headcase housemate and being made homeless. Mia had been offered a job working for her friend Troy helping him run his Escort Agency. Days, Months ran away with her. After what seemed a lifetime of dragging suitcases, shoes and photo's of her past life around Barcelona, she called a guy who worked in a hostel she had stayed at months before. The Polish Guy had mentioned he was looking for a housemate and had previously asked Mia if she was interested. At the time she wasn't but now she desperately needed a place.

Late on a Sunday night, she went to see the apartment in the trendy part of Barcelona, as he showed her around, she imagined herself in the flat. She loved the size of the bedroom she would be living in, the living room had a light feel to it and the bathroom had enough cupboard space to fill with half of Lush's back catalogue. She asked The Polish Guy where his bedroom was and was taken back when he said it was a one bedroom flat. She was slightly confused, he told her he was away from home a lot for work and needed someone to look after the place and while he was at home, he slept on the sofa after a long day's hard work.

Desperate for a place to live, she agreed to move in, she found him slightly creepy and promised herself that she would use her next pay check to find another more suitable place. On the first night she moved in, he kept her up late, asking her questions about her life, when he asked her if she had a boyfriend, she noticed that his face dropped when she replied yes. He told her not to invite him over and that he would be jealous if she did. She agreed, only to keep the peace.

The next day, she waited for The Russian to come back from work, he had gotten into a drunken brawl at the weekend and had lost his phone. She was worried and needed to make sure he was okay. She didn't really know where they were heading or what they even meant to each other, he liked to keep her waiting and guessing and it kept her on her toes. That night she told her about her new living arrangements and how uncomfortable it made her. She stayed the night and enjoyed the sweet embrace of his arms.

In the morning she woke up to find 82 missed calls on her phone, The Polish Guy had been calling her, leaving her messages and texting asking why she hadn't come home. The last call was at 6.30am and Mia grew more disturbed and shaken by his actions. His messages ranged from anger to upset to concerned. He told her he wouldn't sleep until she came home and that he was worried about her. She felt sick to her stomach listening to his voice, this was a man whom she had only spent an hour with before. She told the Russian and showed him the messages, he laughed it off and told her not to worry about it.

She stayed another night, not thinking about what The Polish Guy might be thinking, the next day, she woke up to texts of abuse and mesages threatening to throw her belongings in the street. She called TPG asking him why he was behaving in the way he was, he told her that he thought they were meant to be together and that they were going to live together and be happy. Feeling ill and angry at the thought of what he was implying, Mia told him she was moving out. She would go back to the flat while he was at work and move all her stuff out.

Within the hour, he had called her back and told her he was packing her stuff. The Russian's house was on the other side of town and she had no money for the Metro or a cab. She ran in her flip flops as fast as she could. She let herself into the flat, ready to confront The Polish Guy, only to find him sitting on the sofa...masturbating with her underwear on the coffee table.

She said nothing, packed and left...

3 comments:

sanely insane said...

expected :P

he really was the 'polish' guy :P

simoncolumb said...

Wow. Polish men know how to woo the ladies.

Simon

Blog: http://knowingviews.blogspot.com/
Podcast: http://simonandjoshow.mypodcast.com/

American Bridget (Jones) said...

Just came across your blog and read a few posts and love it! I’ve just started (it’s a work in progress for sure) a new blog about being a singleton in my 30s. Would love to follow you and hope you do the same! You can find me at:

AmericanBridget@blogspot.com

Regards,
Ryan