21) Pulling In The Workplace III (The Exclusive Members Club)
January 18, 2007
it's quite long...i am so sorry...i got carried away..
I should be doing my tax therefore I have started two new enterprises. Enterprise one is reading a new book. Enterprise two is trying to get rid of the limescale around the plug of my bath.
When I am reading a novel I often start to assume characteristics of the heroine. When reading classics I start to say things like, “Ah me, Live in Ex Boyfriend, I fear I shall never have carnal relations again and shall have to take up embroidery and personal bit fiddling.” And then I sigh in a melancholy manner. I am not reading a classic at the moment. I am reading A Girl With A One Track Mind. My father bought me this book. I feel if he had remembered his glasses when in WHSmiths, and seen that on page one the heroine discusses anal sex and cock rings he might have purchased me a different title. Such is life’s fate.
The manifestations of this book have been twofold. On the one hand I worry that as I have never masturbated in a department store changing room or been to a swingers club perhaps I am abnormal and the convent has more than I thought to answer for. The other is that I have started to look at men as mere sexual objects and as a result have become a master of innuendo and flirting.
I am on the way to work. I am blissfully relieved that I dealt with telling Older Man Favourite Customer about the blog so marvellously. I am reading my smut book. I am blushing. Blimey she’s trying to fist herself now! I am wondering whether I should find the Rampant Rabbit that my sister bought me two birthdays ago. I have two problems with the rabbit.
1) I live in a small one bedroomed flat with my ex boyfriend.
2) It sounds like a lawnmower.
I arrive to work at my Exclusive Members Club a little bit flushed. Flamboyant French Waiter With A Better Vocabulary Than Me opens the door. He kisses me on both cheeks 14 times.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim once he let’s me go, “I’m reading this book and the girl in it’s trying to fist herself.”
“Ah, ah! Feesting herself eh! While we are discusseeeeeing this marvellous topeec of sex. Av I showed you my pierced penis?” he asks with a wicked glint in his eye.
“YES!” I scream terrified at the sight of his hand going to his fly, “about 7 times and I’m still scarred.”
I run away to have dinner.
The marvellous part of this job is that at 5 o’clock whether you’re starting or finishing work you sit down for half an hour and have a magnificent dinner with wine. The people who work here are without exception all mad, creative alcoholics and I count them as some of my most wonderful friends.
Giant Tattoed Italian Friend, who has returned from Italy and is now a manager at The Exclusive Member’s Club, stands arms open wide saying “Ciao, bella” I jump into his arms for a lovely warm man hug. Homeless Friend enters the room. Giant Tattoed Italian Friend opens his arms again.
“Come to me Homeless Friend. There ees room for you too ere.”
Homeless Friend joins in for a group hug while Giant Tattoed Italian Friend explains.
“I love zee ladies. There is a lot of testosterone een my family. I need ze sex. I didn’t even touch myself zis morning.”
Homeless friend and I take this as a good time to extricate ourselves from the embrace.
“Oh my God! Talking of wanking the girl in this book I’m reading tries to fist herself."
Homeless Friend looks alarmed. Small but Perfectly Formed French Waiter With The Lovely Deep Voice overhears.
“Where eeez theeez book?” he enquires. I give it to him. He sits for some minutes chuckling demonically then gives it back to me.
“I am getting an eeeerection. Can I take ze book home when you’ve fineeeshed.” He asks keenly.
If the tone of conversation starts with fisting at five o’clock it is unlikely it will get any more high-brow as the evening progresses.
We are told at dinner about the staff Christmas party which is happening next month. The staff Christmas party always happens after Christmas because we are so busy at the Exclusive Members Club over the Christmas period hosting everybody else’s Christmas party. It is traditionally an affair that involves pleading for a new liver the following morning.
We are all very excited except for Curly Haired Italian Friend who was in a particularly grumpy mood one day before Christmas owing to being over tired and over worked. He accidentally punched a door to open it. It didn’t open and he broke his hand. Now he is not very good at carrying drinks and is very sheepish at any mention of Christmas.
“I am not coming.” He says looking sad. Now Curly haired Italian Friend is one of the most lovely men on the planet and he has one of the nicest girlfriend’s in the world to boot.
“Noooo!” I wail, “I’m going to make you come.”
“You will make me come, eh?”
“Yes, I won’t come if you don’t come.” I say adamantly oblivious to any innuendo.
“No, no, no! I will always make you come first.” He says looking naughtily into my eyes.
“Oh! You gentleman.” I squeal in delight, hugging him.
Small But Perfectly Formed French Waiter With The Sexy Voices taps me on the shoulder.
“Looocie, when will you finish wiz ze book?”
Homeless Friend is moaning to Giant Tattoed Italian Friend that she wants a conscious shag, ‘The Conscious Shag’ as opposed to the ‘The Unconscious Shag’ which happens generally at 4 am, is rubbish and can barely be remembered through the vodka tonic blur.
With sex firmly on our small, wine oiled brains we put our aprons on and get to work.
I am wearing a black off the shoulder top which Homeless Friend gave me as her breasts were too big for it. I spy Curly haired Italian Friend carrying two glasses of red wine with his plaster cast-ed wrist. “I am going to make you come!” I say saucily. He immediately drops the glasses of red wine down my white apron. The look is ‘Glamorous Flamenco Dancer From The Waist Up and Zealous Butcher From The Waist Down.”
The Exclusive Members Club is a mobile free zone so I reluctantly take my phone from my pocket. I have missed a call from Older Man favourite Customer. I quickly listen to the message in which he says,
“Older Man (pause) thinks dot, dot, dot.”
That’s all he says! Wank, bollocks, tits! He’s bloody reading it!
I set to work and survey my domaine. There are a surprising number of hotties present. There is Obscenely Handsome Man With Girlfriend, Lovely Friendly Man I Used To Have An Obscene Crush On and a new face at the bar, Beautiful Man Wearing A Dodgy Cravat Who Looks Obscenely Wealthy.
Homeless Friend and Giant Tattoed Italian Friend are avoiding work in a huddle talking about how to procure a conscious shag.
“Ze problem wiz women, is they don’t let you know when zey are attracted to you.”
I over hear.
This is true. As I know I fancy both Obscenely Handsome Man With Girlfriend and Lovely Friendly Man I Used To Have An Obscene Crush On I will avoid them all night. This is because, as I fancy them I am bound to say something stupid and they will think I am a plum. This is doubly relevant today as I am liable to blurt out the fact that I have never tried to fist myself.
I position myself at the bar and eavesdrop on the conversation that Beautiful Man With The Dodgy Cravat Who Looks Obscenely Wealthy is having with his older male friend. The older friend is 55 and has just split up with his 32 year old girlfriend. Obviously I am riveted. Then he says, “I was too old for her. I couldn’t have worked out. When I was in my forties I thought about sex all the time now I’m just interested in my antique business.” Oh God. Where does that leave me and Older Man Favourite Customer?
Small But Perfectly Formed French Waiter With The Sexy Voice stands looking at me.
“You are beautifoool tonight.” He growls.
“Thank you, shall we run away and make babies in Chateauneuf du Pape?” I say flirtily.
What is wrong with me tonight? I’m on heat! Maybe I’ve just entered my sexual prime. Scary!
Beautiful Man With The Dodgy Cravat Who Looks Obscenely Wealthy and his friend overhear and laugh. Then they all have a conversation about how lovely I am. This is unprecedented. It emerges that Dodgy Cravat is so wealthy he can’t remember how many vintage motorbikes he has at his country house. He is trying to impress me I’m sure of it.
Then Lovely Friendly Man Who I Used To Have An Obscene Crush walks up to the bar. I see him approach. I try to hide by placing my head in the glass washer. He must recognise my phenomenally large bottom as he shouts.
“Is that Lucy?”
I emerge from the facial sauna of the glass washer.
“Hello.” I smile warmly, careful to keep my word output to a minimum.
“It’s so good to see you. You look gorgeous.”
I’m sure I’m as minging as normal. What’s wrong with everyone?
And he doesn’t stop there. He hugs me, kisses me and whispers in my ear.
“Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”
I want to get his smiling face and push it in the glass washer and turn it on! I’ve been available for years, not a sausage from this man, but now I’m seeing someone he professes interest.
“Um, er, I’m sort of um seeing someone.” I say with as much finesse for language as someone who’s just root canal treatment.
‘Oh, well he’s a lucky man, can I have a vodka tonic, 7 beers and some chips.”
I start to think. I am not beautiful in the least. I am alright in the dark when people are drunk. So what’s going on? It must be the book. The sex that’s on my brain must be showing on my face and making me attractive. Or it could be a glow from spending time with Older Man Favourite Customer. The elixir to make yourself attractive to men is to bloody have one already. Oh the cruel irony.
Feeling the warm glow of being with someone makes me feel a little hungry again. I go to the kitchen and say to the male chef in my best sultry voice.
“If you give me a chocolate pudding I’ll smother myself in the chocolate sauce and let you lick it off.”
He smiles at me and duly makes me a pudding! Talking about sex is clearly the way to getting whatever you want. I decide to try my luck at engineering a break for me and Homeless Friend. I walk up to Giant Tattoed Italian Friend and say,
“If you let me and Homeless Friend go on a break together. We will take our clothes off and you can ravish us in an Italian sandwich.”
He smiles and let’s us go on a break. This is unbelievable! I am just wondering what I could possibly say to my bank manager to make him put me in credit when Homeless Friend taps me on the arm and whispers.
“Can I ask you something?” she looks concerned.
“Of course.” I say looking concerned too.
“Have you ever…you know….” She makes a fist with her hand “yourself.”
“NO!” I scream.
“Good.” She looks relieved, “neither have I.’
We hug.
Feeling the warm glow of love from everywhere, I go on my break. I check my phone. Another message from Older Man Favourite Customer. Blimey he’s keen!
It is another short one.
“Older Man wonders who The One is…dot, dot, dot”
Tits, wank, bollocks and fisting is all I can think.
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Talk to me be brutal!!
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January 19, 2007 - Ahhhhh...
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| The Gospel According to mattslittlesister |
I love it. I love girl with a wrong track mind..It definately is the book, I had a certain glow for days when I read it...and I love that Older man favourite customer is so intrigued...which means he's probably reading this..Hallo....
It is 1.30am and I have so much work to do. I am tired and hot and bored, your blog has given me the little boost I needed.
As ever fabulous Ms. lucy xxxx |
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January 19, 2007 - Untitled Comment
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| The Gospel According to Destructor |
| This is all excellent. |
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January 19, 2007 - Untitled Comment
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| The Gospel According to Homeless Friend |
The joys of working in our exclusive members club......concentrated sexual frustration galore!
Ok, then.... so when ARE you going to finish that book then.... I AM WAITING!!!!
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January 19, 2007 - Untitled Comment
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| The Gospel According to fish |
| do you think j ross is a sex god because he likes to sniff the smell of pies on his wife's skirt? |
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January 20, 2007 - one track mind
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| The Gospel According to double G the mother to be |
| hey luce!! why are you so worried about having a one track mind, my mind is much worse than your how do you think i got my husband to fall in love with me!!! mind you alot of what i think comes out of my mouth and not always in the right situations!!! boys love it!!! |
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January 23, 2007 - Untitled Comment
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| The Gospel According to Katherine |
| It is a good job I wasn't drinking anything when I read this or my keyboard would now be a gonner. V.funny. |
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May 21, 2007 - Beauty
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| The Gospel According to Anonymous |
>I start to think. I am not beautiful in the least.
Lucy dear, you've never been anything but beautiful. I admit it's been nigh on 15 years, if not longer, since I last saw you, but beauty doesn't disappear. And besides, men who consider beauty to be skin deep are arses and should be treated as such, wiped and flushed where they belong.
Now, of course, you're wondering who I am, but I'll leave you guessing; can't make things too easy. Clue 1 - your Mum told my Mum you were blogging and a quick search found it and I'm glad I did; thoroughly entertaining, well written, thoughtful and moving. I'm away on business and have spent the last hour or so catching up on the past entries, ignoring the work I'm supposed to be doing.
d |
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