LEGS ON WHEELS ' LABELLED-DISABLED'
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Part 1…. Chapter 19

25/5/2016

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Good morning Swansea…. And what a beautiful mid-May morning it is. I am feeling pretty dam good today. I’m not going to ask the Gods why? I shall look into my crystal ball and it’s saying…. Fuk you, work it out yaself.... I’m just feeling dandy after a great night’s sleep. I have been up since the crack of dawn with loads of energy, and now I'm sitting out on the roof terrace with my laptop, tapping away. Sipping a freshly made fruit juice, munching and crunching on toast, and with the ritual joint rolling only a few moments away, I feel on top of the world. Whilst watching and listening to the seagulls squawking, and squaring up to each other in the open sky….
Its reminding me of bikers for some reason, at rally’s ;-)….


One of these giant albatrosses, attempted to swoop in close and grab my toast but it was in my mouth before it had the chance of its own sweet victory. It must have known a race had begun as I clocked it descend in my direction, wing span blocking out the sun. Who would be the fastest in the west and claim the prized toast and jam. Fuk they’re bloody big birds, daft too…. Ok, it’s time to get to work…. I have a very busy day today…. Plus, I have to finish my smoke…. Type later….

It was a brief moment with nature at 7.20am this morning…. After that encounter, I spent about half an hour at least, crippled over like the Hunchback of Notre-Dame. Going around the gardens with a bucket picking up all the fag ends. Scattered everywhere by my adored customers. Except in the ashtrays that are provided and put out at all times for such habits.
After all of that bending up and down activity, I went back inside to check what kitchen cleaning and food supplies were needed and noted on a list by the cook. Next job done was a beer bottle, spirits, crisps, nuts, etc stock take. Then the cellar stock take before pelting up the stairs as fast as a bullet to my office. I took out my to-do list and off I went, henceforth and sat at my desk. With ashtray to hand, pen and paper ready to be scribbled on, the countdown begun.

First I rang in the beer order, followed with a call to order gas for the cellar. Then I arranged a collection date for the used cooking oil accumulating out in the back yard. I filed up-to-date invoices and finished Crowley’s accounts. Sorted out the till floats and change bags for both pubs, and finished printing next week’s staff rotas. Followed with yet another call to British GAS to question the monthly pay plan for the Cricketers. The cheeky shits are taking out more than agreed. I got through eventually, after being on hold for what seemed like an eternity. To a girl/woman/thick twat, whatever she was. She wasn’t the brightest flame burning with this gas company that’s for sure. Her capability of not understanding my very basic English words at the time, seemed to baffle me over and over. To the point where the wrath of my voice down the telephone blasting into her ears, must of shook her tiny little brain to the realization that she was STUPID!!!.... Joint needed…. Ashtray pulled in close…. Amanda better…. ;-)


I booked bands for the following 2/3 weeks. I squeezed in a trip to the council to pay taxes and then to the bank, which had to be done before a run to the cash and carry…. I’ve had a very productive and organised day today. Time passed so quick, it felt like it just whizzed by without me. I’m back upstairs in my office and the night staff have now arrived for their shift.

I haven’t spent too much time thinking about where the other half is staying, or if he’s coming back. What I have been thinking about is what shall I do with the Cricketers. Shall I keep it, and find a manager to run it or shall I just sell it, if we split up?

It was coming close to closing time so after the last customer left and I heard the doors being locked I made my way downstairs. Staff were busy cleaning and setting everything back ready for the next day. Once all was done, one left and the other stayed behind and poured me a drink. We sat at the bar chatting when he asked if I was ok and if there was anything he could do. I could of said, “Got time for a quickie”, but I didn’t. He’s good looking candy, with a head full of thin black perfectly formed and created dreadlocks and sparkly big dark eyes. I told him what had happened and it seemed quite funny really as he had made a move to kiss me just before Christmas and I turned him down, because I was loyal to my man - then…. We were drunk walking ahead of the rest of the gang, back to a mate’s house to carry on with the party. Drunk or not it was sooo close to happening. When I look back I could kick myself for not going with that flow. I knew then that my relationship was doomed. I found that out when we were over at the Dam for Christmas.


Putting that memory aside, we had a good talk and it was good to know that he was there to help if anything was needed. He is a good friend. We said good night and I locked the door behind him, checked all the other doors and windows were locked, picked up the till trays, turned off all the lights and took myself up to bed…. The Cricketers is a big pub to be alone in…. Zzzzz
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Part 1.... chapter 18

16/5/2016

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I have been in a dream world that has been trying to keep me from my reality and I’m not sure if I want to come out of it. Apart from my partner disappearing I have had the hangover of all hangovers, following me around for days and not eating isn’t helping. Plus, to top it all off my bruises have turned blue, black and purple for all to see. I can’t wear a long sleeve top to hide them, well I could, but it’s frigging boiling weather at the moment, I’d be sweating pints not pulling them. The sleeves would be rolled up which would make the bruises visible anyway.

Right now I’m sitting in my office with sounds from the juke box downstairs bursting its vibration through the floor, while typing away my thoughts, and today was the day I wish I did cover the bruises up.

I knew the argument and fight that happened a few nights back would not have gone unheard and would catch the attention of some of the regulars who live next door and right opposite the pubs main front doors. They most definitely would have been peeping from behind their curtains to see what all the commotion was about. I know I would have played the spy if it were the other way around. We all like a bit of gossip about friends/people/neighbours/anybody really, and it’s even better and bigger if it’s the couple who run the local pub….


It’s the worst nightmare to be in right now. All the locals are watching my every move – again -  just dying to ask where “He” is.

I had to inform my staff at the Cricketers that the other half wouldn’t be around for a while and I had to ask who would be available to take on some extra shifts. Saying that alone I could see it in their darting eyes they were thinking, “What’s happened, what’s going on? Why, where has he gone”? ....

I asked them not to ask me to many questions and to say nothing to the customers other than “He had to go away on a course” …. Even though that would be like asking the Gods to show themselves the light in this so called civilized world of decorum and courtesy. Could the Gods demonstrate truth and substance of their existence? Can it ever be proven that they really do exist? Even that in itself is asking for a bloody miracle to happen…. So I’ll answer it myself, and the answer is no, they do not bloody exist…. And you can't trust your staff to keep quiet either. 

With the motorbike not being parked outside the pub, almost every customer after the second day noticed it gone and not returned. And so the “rumour has it,” whisper began. Gathering their scattered pieces of misleading information together, to come up with their own analogy. Their own workings out, of where “HE” has gone, and have you seen “HER” bruises….
 
Whisper, whisper words so sweet
It’s all his fault the girl did cheat
But with his hand he struck her down
And now it’s he that acts the clown.
 
On this day I took a seat in the back beer garden with a pint and just sat in the May sun alone, before it started to fill up with paying, gossiping, nosey customers. Still all itching to ask me where my partner was. I sat at the furthest table trying to make myself as unsociable as possible with my back to anyone and everyone. I wanted to turn to show my face, but at this moment my back was enough to let the public know that business was open as usual and this woman is still working it.
Any questions, ask the devil.


I was just about to leave the beer garden to go and take my dog for a walk when a friend popped himself through the back fenced gate at the rear lane entrance, sat down and joined me. He asked me “What’s up”? after he’d got himself a pint. I told him in brief what had happened and to be honest it was needed. I don’t talk to many people, if any really, about my personal behind closed doors life, and talking with a male friend stopped my emotions pouring out.
I didn’t need to go into the full dynamics of the night as a customer interrupted our conversation to ask if I was ok. He had noticed the bruises on my arms. I answered by telling the Ex fireman that I came off the motorbike, it was just a scratch. I knew, that he knew, that I knew I was lying. He lived opposite the pub and would have had front row seats to the big fight. He took my answer with a nod without question, and just went and sat back down. All heads at his table huddled together on his return for the deliverance of juicy gossip. Only to be deeply disappointed….


My friend and I just looked at each other with the look that said “Everybody knows”….

Between the staff and the customers all watching me waiting for some inside information to slip past my lips. I'm starting to feel uncomfortable 
everytime I work behind the bar or just walking through to go upstairs. My life feels very, very intruded right now, violated to a degree by preying pervy eyes, and if one more bloke tries to make a pass on me or touches my ass again I’m going to knee the fucker where it fucking hurts….

The offers coming my way right now I wouldn’t even waste my piss on to put out their raging fire of sexual desires.

There is only one I would go to seek and find. Who I want to push my buttons right now and he isn’t from this country ….


If and when I want, I will take.

It looks like I’m gonna have to take the pleasure with my own hand this time …. ;-)
 

 

 


 
 

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Part 1.... chapter 17

9/5/2016

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OH MY God!!!.... What a crazy, mad and numb feeling I’ve been in for the past 4 days as opposed to the last God knows how long of emotional landslides. It has been so stupidly childish and not feeling real even though it obviously is real. Not what I was expecting at my age. I’ve had and done enough wrongs in my life from my first breath, I’m now 35 years old and shit is still happening….

Well, waking up the following morning after the night before, with the bright golden sun reminding me I was still alive and on the bed freezing with sore bruises all over. It didn’t fill me with great joy. After that crazy dimension my partner and I were in that night, he has left, to “sort his head out”. His words. I don’t know where he’s gone or for how long. He’s just gone… Run away, run away, run away…. 

On that morning it was back to business as usual in a way, but only as far as the pub was concerned. While I had been cuddling my bag all night sleeping, my partner had been awake cleaning up all the smashed glass behind the bar. He re-fitted the optics to hold the spirit bottles, finished cleaning the beer lines and all the cleaning of the pub before opening the doors he had tried to throw me out of to welcome in the staff to work.

Once all of this was complete he came up to the flat to tell me that the pub was ready to open and that he had to go away for a few days. I said it was time for him to think and come to a decision of what he wanted to do. The business was mine; we both knew that. But was he? That we didn’t know. He said he was sorry for what he had said and done. Calling me by his EX wife’s name, grabbing me around the throat. He just didn’t understand it himself, as to why he reacted the way he did….

Should I be satisfied and take that as a reasonable answer? No. Because I know why I did what I done. I know who I am and why I executed the actions he received. The problem is between him and me. If he can’t see that, then why am I waiting to see if his head and heart come together with the right longing. That being said, are we just having a minor setback for the first time in our relationship. Will true love conker all? We can all but dream….


Anyway what’s done is done. What’s said has been said and with that you can’t go back. You can only try to understand, rectify, clarify and execute your next move before the tower comes tumbling down upon you.

My life’s direction at this moment in time, has left me feeling I know no more in which way the path turns. I seem to be in the middle of a crossroads right now, not bothered if my partner for once in his life could man up. Be honest with his emotional self. Take control of the decision and just fuck off for good and stop wasting my time thinking we could re-ignite our relationship. Or bring the spark back. I’m always up for excitement, he should know that…. But no, I think we both know this relationship has come to its end. He doesn’t like the journey we started with the second business. I feel that from him, although I’m sure he would never say that. That’s what I feel is the problem here. I could be wrong. I’ll never know. What I do know is that my partner has deep trouble opening up on how he really feels emotionally in a relationship. He uses the famous three little words “I Love You”. At one point in the early days of our relationship it was becoming a repetitive groan in my ear and I asked him to stop saying it all the time. It was at the end of every phone call, everytime he left the house, every night before sleep etc, etc, everyday…. Why do some people keep saying that to their partner? In my thinking right now my partner is a pondering soul, a wanderer. Waiting for the other to decide what the best course of action to take is….


If he comes back with no understanding or wanting of a relationship, my head and heart has lost nothing. One door will close while another opens. My goal in life at the moment is to straighten my path and carry on with my mini empire and acquire more property and another one or two businesses. And most of all get my sex life up and running…. ;-)
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Part 1.... chapter 16

1/5/2016

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Well I’ve been sat by my computer on and off for how many hours only the Gods know. Which God is with me today I wonder, because she or he are not helping me put the pieces together that well. My mind is such a drag today. When I look out of the window the skies calming blue colour background has big fluffy white clouds rapidly being pulled and stretch out like pizza dough before a thin lower cloud sweeps in like a white colouring pen to fill in the gaps until no blue sky is showing. Maybe by tomorrow after the winds have settled, there will be more blue sky to see and my mind will heel….

It’s hard to live by the rules so the smoking of a joint was called for again before I got the business accounts sorted and done a stock take. The only thing in my mind is the night I came home after a night out with my mate. That night was the first time ever in our relationship that my partner and I had a physical fight. It was crazy….

After scrunching up the note that he’d left on my pillow I threw it towards him as he shouted something at me from behind the bar that I can’t even remember. What I do remember is this - It didn’t please me at all and I picked up the nearest small stool to hand and aimed it at him as he stood there. He ducked away from the oncoming missile which crashed into and smashed up some of the optics spirits held up on the top shelf. The stool didn’t hit him physically but my action in throwing it at him did. I had hit an emotional release button within him with great force that his anger charged him from out behind the bar and coming directly towards me on full speed.

He wanted me out of the Cricketers. He just kept shouting that at me, which was fine. I told him he could stay. Have it. No problem. All I needed to do was go back upstairs to get my bag and keys, but what I was saying to him was not connecting and registering with the few cognitive brain cells he has left….

We started pushing and shoving each other around like we were doing the frigging waltz, rhythmically around the pub floor. Somehow he’d managed to get me onto the floor and grab me by the ankles to start pulling me along the carpeted floor to the front of the pub. I’m desperately trying to grab a hold of any table or stool leg but without success. All the while screaming at him to let go because all I needed to do was go and get my bag and keys.
He dragged me to the front entrance but had to let go of my ankles to take the steel lock bar off to open the doors. As soon as I’m up he’s already taken the bar off and we are back to pushing and shoving each other again. Only this time he had his hand around my throat. Trying to push me back down to the floor calling me all the whores under the sun and then by his EX wife’s name…. That was well freaky…. I mean…. What the fuck…. I had only kissed a guy…. I hadn’t tried to get a threesome going on here. Not like his EX, who was apparently into that more than he…. Awe….


I tried to get his hand from my throat and gain his attention by telling him "I’m not your bloody EX. I’m not, blar, blar”. He eventually let go but he wasn’t going to give up until he’d got me out of the pub.

He eventually pushed me with such force out through the front door that I landed a good three meters from it. I landed with a hell of a bump. It seemed that I was flying through the air in slow motion as I caught the look on my partners face as I landed…. Not too far down the street I could see a small group of people walking down towards us, so I got up and ran towards our motor bike with the threat to him that I was gonna pull it to the ground. That was the only way I thought I could get my partner away from the door so I would be able to get back inside the pub to get my bag and keys. For fuck sake that is all I wanted….

It worked. I didn’t pull the bike to the floor but the distraction was long enough. By the time he came back in and had locked the door back up and turned to find me I was gone. Well not gone, I was there but in the shadows. Sitting on the sofa by the stage in the dark with my knees bent up to my chest and my arms hugging them in close. I wanted to laugh at him because the situation we were in reminded me of when I was a young girl. My father battered whole fuck out of every woman in his life and me almost every day for most of my mine. I was 15yrs old when I left home vowing no man would hit me again without a fight back….
​
While sitting in the dark watching my man running around the pub like a headless chicken calling out for my whereabouts, just made me want to laugh... He stormed into the kitchen then back out of the kitchen, not even noticing I'm so close. He took the steps in a leap up to look around the bar area again. So before I'd burst out my laughter and blew my cover, I called out for him to turn on the lights.


He came and sat next to me and more damaging words were spoken. I then got up to go upstairs when another toxic babble of the English language came spilling out from both of us then his hand was again around my throat pushing my head onto the door that lead the way up to the flat. I was also used to this action by my father so after looking deep into my partner’s eyes and saying the last of what I had to say, I just closed mine and relaxed myself until he released his grip.

Once he let go of me the door opened and I went upstairs and laid on the bed. I woke up the following morning curled up cuddling my bag, still wearing yesterdays clothes, freezing my tits off, and feeling very, very sore….
 
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