So it’s January, which means it’s time for January bowling.
Turns out, much as I love her, Flutey is not the most original when it comes to planning her birthdays. Just as happened last year, and the year before that, and the year beforethat, the merry band of troubadours gathered to celebrate another musical year of her life, and headed off to throw big heavy balls at phalluses. Brilliant.
Figuring that attendance might be a tad low, considering that half of us are on tour these days and a couple of others have left these shores for the brighter lights of Broadway, I dragged Blondie and Irish along for the ride, and recruited Big Apple Boy (who just moved here from said bright lightslast week, bless his cottons) to join in the fun. Of course, there was one factor I didn’t consider;
Forbidden Fruit, I had assumed, was still on tour in the furthest reaches of the country. This was not the case. He was, most definitely, present and correct in all his glory.
It might be worth mentioning at this point that Forbidden and I had a nice little bout of text/phone sex about a week back. Funnily enough, the subject of Flutey’s birthday bowling didn’t come up while he was wanking himself off and telling me he loved me listening to him come. The guy is SUCH an exhibitionist.
Anyhoo – this is a tad awkward as you may recall, Flutey is IN LOVE with Forbidden. And she definitely doesn’t know I slept with him. The Bopper does though, and he was taking every single opportunity to drop it into conversation. Loudly. While Flutey was dangerously close. That was nice of him.
A couple of days later, after Forbidden spent the evening berating me for not taking him along to any of the press nights I’ve been along to lately, I invited him to be my plus one for King Lear at the Roundhouse. A bit of tragic Shakespeare – that’ll learn him. We ended up having a rather all right evening, which was helped by the fact that King Lear was bloody brilliant, and the evening ended with a sweet goodbye kiss and a ‘let’s catch up again soon’.
What’s this? Could it be that Forbidden might actually be worth revisiting? Worth an actual date, perhaps? Does this fit into the whole; ‘don’t look for love, it’ll find you’ conundrum? I found myself wondering this more than once, when I was supposed to be paying attention to box office figures and whatnot, and then earlier this week, Forbidden reminded me in that pleasant way that he has, exactly where we stand;
‘Any chance of tickets for *insert play here* this week babes?’
Drowning in paperwork, with artwork coming out of my ears and a press night party nightmare falling to pieces around me, I quickly responded with a ‘no, sorry’, to which I received the response;
‘That’s ok hun, thanx for tryin! Don’t get too stressed with work babes, let me no when you need me 2 alleviate the tension…! xx’
And then, with bad grammar and horrible text speak, he reminds me why I came to the conclusion that actors are only good for one thing.
Oh no no no, Forbidden. I shall not consider dating you. If I get desperate, I may shag you again, even though I thought the whole ‘wanking off in my face’ thing was a bit weird, but I certainly shall not be falling for you.
Glad we got that cleared up. I’m off to review some stuff.
Ps: Much as I would like to say I kicked ass at bowling… well, I kicked Forbidden’s. And Blondie’s. Irish, however, was an unstoppable force in a fabulous red dress and brogues. Big Apple Boy claimed to be terrible at bowling… turns out, he’s only terrible compared to Americans. He whupped us Brits. Dang.