A week or so ago over at JC's bit SWC was regaling us with the further adventures of Our Price Girl which got me to thinking of the rather turbulent relationship I had on and off from the age of 16 to twenty three and one incident in particular, one of many I should add.
As I may have mentioned once or twice, I was part of a Scooter Club and when we all congregated in the same place of a weekend it could get quite messy. This didn't happen as often as you would think in a small town as we all frequented different pubs, the reason for that I'm not quite sure of now but Stiff and I drank in the Woodpecker and the others elsewhere. I also had a girlfriend, "I" who thought very little of scooters and even less of the crowd that rode them, so the fact that they drank in different watering holes from us was quite fortunate really. She did get on with Stiff but couldn't stand his girlfriend so there was always friction there. On a few occasions the worlds of "I" and the scooter club collided usually not resulting in a positive experience.
Just outside of Lanark at the bottom of the Brae was the Clyde Valley Hotel I am told in it's day quite a plush place but by 1986/87 had seen better days. It did however have a great big function suite. Every so often there would be a disco held there and the owners were rather lax when it came to the licensing laws and the purchasing of alcohol by those under the age of eighteen making the nights very popular and also ensuring that chaos ensued. Another reason why it was so popular with the scootering fraternity was the sympathetic dj who would play whatever songs we requested and also any records we took with us without questioning. Most of the time "I" didn't go to these nights as it wasn't really her seen but sometimes she would attend if her sister or her friends were going. On one such occasion we met up there and for the first hour or so everything was great, until I had had a few drinks, started socialising with Jake, Mic and the rest of the crew and kind of forgot about "I" until I saw her on the dancefloor with a guy that had gone to school with us and never hid the fact that he fancied her. I will admit now that this did slightly irk me but at the time I ignored it knowing that that would annoy "I" a great deal. oh, the games people play. So for the next wee while she danced and talked to this poor deluded guy who thought that he was "in there". After a bit I got bored and decided to call it a night, so ambled over to "I" and asked her if she was coming up the road to which she replied that she was having a good night and was staying to the end, "Fair enough" I replied and bid her good night and embarked upon the couple of miles home,on foot, all up hill I hasten to add. I got in the house and went to bed.
I was woken out of my comatose state with a searing pain coming from the right side of my face and when I opened my eyes all I could see was "I's" raging face, she then called my a bastard in the most aggressive whisper I have ever heard before lamping me once more and explaining that that was for leaving her in Kirkfieldbank. I tried to reason with her which was quite difficult when whispering so as to not wake up my parents. Then the question dawned on me and I asked her, "how did you get in here?" she motioned to the wide open window which I had opened slightly before retiring. Now I was more impressed than annoyed as you see we didn't live in a bungalow and my bedroom was on the first floor.
When I forgot my keys I used to hop up onto the gate attached to our garage and climb up with one foot on the garage wall and the other on next door's gable end and once on top of the garage I would creep along the 18" ledge that ran from the front of the garage to the end of the front of the house and then climb in my bedroom window. I was now totally in love with the girl as she had obviously taken note and felt so strongly that she did it herself. She on the other hand was still absolutely raging. It took me about another half hour to calm her down and I still couldn't get my head round how this was all my fault. I said at the time that I would walk her home but she had decided to stay and I knew that she would get up the road with her sister, however I thought better of pointing this out to her. Eventually she said.
"You'll need to walk me up the road then"
"No way" I replied" "I was happily tucked up in bed before you barged in . And by the way you will need to go back out the way you came in"
I managed to duck the punch that came my way at that point and decided that there was no need to be petty and relented. We crept down the stairs and out of the house without waking up the mater and pater, a major result as I was not sure how I would have explained this as my dad was still up when I arrived home on my own.. I am pretty sure that there was no goodnight kiss when I got her home but we were reconciled if not the next day then soon after. One thing that can be said for the relationship is that it was never dull.
Here is a track from a guy that always brings back memories of those days as "I" really liked Billy Bragg but she probably gave Brewing Up and the other Bragg records I bought her to Oxfam along with the other records she had of mine. A fact that she relayed to me with great relish after we eventually split up for good. A story for another day maybe.
Billy Bragg - A Lover Sings (alternate version)
9 comments:
Great story Drew.I've never been to Kirkfieldbank but I believe they eat their young there
Brilliant story. I feel your pain.
Most entertaining story, Drew! Another top tip is NEVER to lock potential one-night stands in your flat when you leave for work in the morning with a massive hangover, that's unless you like being phoned up by the local fire department in the office, stuttering lame excuses whilst your colleagues around you burst out with laughter!
This has made me laugh far more than it probably should today. Thanks!
This was great fun until you got to the part about the records. She really did know where to hit and make it hurt.
This is the stuff Drew- great post. Former girlfriends definitely make for interesting tales.
"May you live in interesting times" I believe it's an ancient Chinese proverb or curse. Not always recommended with relationships though, yes former girlfriends do make for interesting tales. I've a couple of scars to show that.
Quality story, Drew. Shame about the records.
Great story, sorry about the records--I feel your pain. I was fortunate in high school to have a room in the front part of the house quite separate from all the rest and my high school girlfriend often came and went via the window, a fact which kept things going much longer than it should, especially as we were dating other people, heading home early, and reconvening in my room...which we discovered years later most everyone who knew us knew, including my parents and siblings. Oops. Sigh.
But the point is when I left for college--she stayed and went to college in our hometown--she kept a set of my records she liked... About 10 years later I got up the nerve to ask for them back; no dice and I frankly assumed they were long gone. Now almost forty years on, we've recently been in touch about her daughter's wedding and I asked after the records, mostly as a joke. She replied that at this point she'd had them far longer than I ever had and considered them hers. Fair enough, I suppose. Though there's an autographed Allman Brothers Live at The Fillmore East I'd sure love to have.
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