Death, Taxes & Near Death Relationships

You know it’s the final round when you hear the bell ring for the twelfth time.
“So you’re still into me then”
“Yeah” Nope.
“So you’re not bored of me?”
“No” Yup.
“I mean we’ve been together for two months now. Soooo you’re practically in love with me right?”
Apart from the speech impediment? Did you even turn up for English class?
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want. But do you? I know this might be a little soon but my sister has been saying that her boyfriend told her after a few weeks. You don’t mind me calling you my boyfriend do you?”
“Kirsty, slow down. Am I supposed to answer all those questions with one answer? I really feel like you want me to”
“Why the hell is always so hard to get an answer out of you John?”
“Maybe because you ask me about 12 questions at once. I’m not a magician you know”
“What?!”
“Never mind”
It’s always the same story with me, just on another day. I have what’s known in the psychological circles as a ‘dysfunctional thyroid rear semblance imbalance’. DTRSI you would be told by the Freudians is caused by over-loving by one parent whilst systematically being incestually in love with your sister, but I don’t have a sister. The pseudo psychologists circle would tell you its caused by being dropped on your head several times in the first 3 ½ weeks of birth, but my mother had assured me that didn’t happen (my father cant verify). I think its caused by being raised in a world were almost every set of parents you know have been divorced several times, and therefore you believe almost every relationship will systematically fail. To cut a long story short, I’m not very good in relationships and I believe love is a more severe case of Attention Deficit Disorder.
Put me in a two week courtship and I’m the perfect gent, doors open and the whole nine yards. But I believe that relationships should really only occur for a very short period of time, ideally about 14 days.
“John if you don’t want to be with me, just tell me!”
“Kirsty you’re practically screaming. In fact scrap my last, you are screaming”
“You’re such an asshole” Hence the crying starteth.

What have I done to deserve this I can almost hear you thinking, I’ll fill you in. I met this girl a few weeks ago at a friend’s party which quickly transfigured into a monumental drinking session in one of our local clubs. It happened to be fancy dress so there I was minding my business as Barney the purple dinosaur and she was dressed up as the wicked witch from the west. Mixing two fictional genres? Oh yeah.
So we start dancing, drinking and just making mischief, but then she mentions the magic words “So is that tail real?”
I don’t really need to state how the rest of the night went down but there was purple paint everywhere. In the AM the inevitable “So you wanna make this a little more regular?” was issued from her lips and I thought why not. The girl was hot, seemed quite intelligent and was obviously into dressing up. Fast forward the parental meeting, a few dates and far too many drinks and you join us in the present.
As I’m handing Kirsty a tissue and wondering if this is going to be the stable flux of events for the rest of my days, I start thinking about Maria. To say that was a disaster would be the understatement of the 21st century.

I met Maria at a work related networking event and I was my usual charming self, blind drunk and relating to Mr Bond. I was at the bar when she squeezed in next to me.
“Nice tux”
“I’m wearing a dress John”
“I see that my infamy precedes me, and I was talking to the guy who was stood behind you. So put your scowl somewhere else”
“Hey, play nice. I’m moving to your office next week so you’d better be courteous to me. I’m Maria” She holds up her hand to me, and I as I lean forward to kiss it mutter, “Don’t you think you’re pushing out the boat a little with courteous?”
“Well, I am going to be your new boss, so I’d say common civility is a prerequisite”
“Should I call you ma’am as well?”
“Only in private”
How could anyone not fall for a conversation like that? As she walks away I relate the fact that she is stunning blonde, very intelligent and is about to become my new line manager. Game on.
I have quick shot of tequila and grab two Martinis and saddle on over to where she’s sat with some other people who work in my office. “Hey guys, have you met our new manager?” I announce as I sit down.
“Yes John, everyone knew last week. Don’t you ever read your memos?” one of my female colleagues disapprovingly informs me.
“Those things contain information?”
“Well I can see its going to be a pleasure working with you for a very short period of time” mentions Maria as she seductively bites an olive off a very lucky cocktail stick.
“Oh, and what makes you think I’m so fireable Maria?”
“I’m sure I’ll find something” Those words were the very omen of my future demise, but how little I knew at that point.
“You think you can keep up with me on the dancefloor?” I ask to my advantage. Dancing has always been something I’m quite good at, especially after several stronger shots.
“Lead the way stranger”
We spent the next several hours dancing, drinking and ignoring everyone else whom we should have been networking with. One thing led to another and we ended up back at her hotel room doing things with room service and the mini-bar that would be frowned upon.

Maria told me the next morning that she was due to fly to the Bahamas for 3 weeks on a company expansion trip, but we should do something when she got back. I wouldn’t say that I missed her while she was gone, but I did find myself thinking about her on more than one occasion, mainly when I caught sight of my current line manager.
When Maria got back it looked like something out of a rom.com minus the American with a terrible British accent. Walks on the beaches, soppy flicks and Friday nights spent inside.
Then the conversation which I’ve never really handled that well occurred
“John-are we a couple?”
“..............” Add your own blank look.
“We’ve spent a lot of time with each other recently and it seems like this is the next logical step” When have women ever thought about logic?
“I don’t see why not, although I can’t see things changing that much” How wrong could one man be.
For the next few days things were mostly the same but then it started to go rapidly downhill. Maria called me one afternoon in floods of tears and begged me to come to see her. At the time I was in the middle of the FA cup on a football game, so I figured it could wait an hour or so.
The next day I went round to see Maria and she had displayed a face that would put the God of War to shame.
“Where the hell were you? I tried to call you ALL bloody night”
“I was right in the middle of a paper for work and I just got sucked in” Something work related, good thinking. I was in the middle of patting myself on the back when I was interrupted.
“Horse muck John. I know you were playing on your blasted computer”
“I knew you’d understand doll. Now what was wrong with you yesterday?”
“My best-friends partner just proposed to her. And she said yes!”
“Ah I misunderstood. I thought that you were upset, not happy” That’s a relief.
“I was upset John! She’s 2 years younger than me and they both met while I was in the Caribbean. They’ve known each other for a shorter time than we have!” I’ve never really understood why women shout so much when they’re upset. What’s wrong with a slightly raised voice?
“Ok. So that means?” I ask, but I already know what’s coming.
“Why nobody’s ever asked me” Which was then accompanied by a bout of tears. I realised instantly that the ‘nobody’ was probably me.
“Maria we’ve been seeing each other for a couple of weeks. Don’t you think that is just a little rushed?”
“You don’t understand John. I’m already 27. That’s means I’ll only be able to have a family for another 20 years or so” I admit that it was about this time that she lost me slightly for a few moments and so I did my best to alleviate the tension and rid the intemperate fear from the air.
“Jesus, did you catch Muse at Glastonbury? Those guys rocked the foundations” Bad idea.
“ALL YOU THINK ABOUT IS YOURSELF!” Really bad idea.
“I just don’t know what to say Maria. Are you saying that I should have gotten down on one knee by now?” Another Muse comment probably would have gone down better.
“If you were serious about me”
“I’ve known you for a few weeks Maria. Don’t you think that would be a little rushed?”
The next hour of conversation was much more of the same. I wasn’t being serious about the relationship and I was afraid of commitment, but I already knew all of the above. I was looking for the best exit from the room when she finally piped up “I’m just being too emotional about the scenario. I’m sure you’ll propose soon” I took that as my cue to leave the same country as the girl and I fled from the house on the premise that I had to ‘return some videotapes’ – thanks Mr Ellis. Looking back, running away from the property was as good as shouting “Run for your independence!”. Yes it was a little too much. Maria didn’t really take it too kindly.
I was about the time that I was safely in my local bar that I realised my worst fear had just become reality, I had just scorned my manager. I can’t really remember a great deal more of that night as I tried to erase my memory of the dreadful events with gargantuan amounts of alcohol.
I arrived in work Monday morning to find an official looking letter on my desk which read something like this:-

Dear Sir,
Due to a recent disclosure of an interstaff relationship at the office, I’m afraid to inform you that we have decided that all parties can no longer work within the same proximity as each other. This would usually mean that one or both of the parties would be relocated to an alternative office. Unfortunately though, all of our offices are currently overstaffed so we have no other alternative but to release the more junior member of staff, which as you aware, is you.

I knew that practically telling my manager that she had no chance of getting married in the near future would have silly consequences, but this was ridiculous.
Cue change of career and add 6months and we are back to the situation you left me in.
“If I’m going to be honest Kirsty, you seem to be coming on a little strong. And crazed. Probably more crazed than strong”
“I’m sorry John, I’m just being a little emotional. I know you’ll tell me you love me soon”
I must have been an asshole in another life.