Do you ever read those adverts in the backs of newspapers...people seeking a soulmate? And men who describe themselves as being 'tall dark and handsome with their own home who loves travelling and walks on the beach' and you shudder and think...EeK!
Bet he's short and bald with a comb-over and lives in a pre-fab with a smelly tom cat and his aged mother...
Everyone seems to 'love walking on the beach'...they're all social drinkers...whatever that might mean. No-one ever 'fesses up to being a bit on the plump side and likes nothing better than watching soaps on TV while downing Gin and Tonic and eating cheese and onion crisps...a brief walk along the beach would be grand, so long as it ended in a cosy 'pub with a decent lunch.
The tall dark and handsome one has been advertising in the back pages of our local freebie paper for weeks...perhaps it wasn't just me who thought him to be decidedly odd in describing himself in such a way...
Honestly, I wouldn't know where to begin if I was to write out a brief resume of a person I'd like to meet...never mind the horror of describing myself accurately...a wrinkly vegetarian old hippy and tree hugger, who is tethered to an oxygen tank and takes enough pills to sink a battleship, would like to meet a tall dark handsome man with loads of money to keep her in the manner she is totally unaccustomed to and if he has a disabled badge for his car, then that would be a bonus...no time wasters please.
That sounds perfect.
But whatever would you do with this tall dark handsome man...he'd be edging you away from the mirror in the mornings while he preened and did his hair just so...bet he'd not want to plonk himself down on the settee that's covered with dog hair...he'd admire himself in shop windows and spend oodles of money on handmade shoes and it'd never occur to him to fill the bird feeders up with more nuts or bring you a cup of tea at two o'clock in the morning...
Sex would be totally out of the question...you'd have to resort to Victorian nighties buttoned up to the neck so he never caught so much as a glimpse of your stretch marked tummy or your saggy boobs...the lights would have to be out of course and he'd probably think anything other than the missionary position would simply ruin his coiffure.
And imagine taking your teeth out or hoping he'd paint your toe-nails in bright purple varnish...bet he wouldn't fill your hot water bottle or laugh at the jokes you read out to him...
Don't think he'd cuddle Eilis and tell her she's a good little woman while she licks his face and squirms with pure joy...
So, I don't think I'll bother with those tall dark and handsome men...I'll just appreciate the man I have.
XX
There's A Whiting Close Behind Me...
The Push.
