Have you come across the phrase? I’ve never had the energy to take revenge on men who’ve let me down, but can’t help secretly laughing at my tenants’ love lives:
Regular readers will know that Greg, who rents a room, is still in prison and I eagerly anticipate his release in a couple of weeks as his rent hasn’t been paid since the beginning of January. What you don’t know is how he got there and the story started last year (based on what I’ve picked up, not judicial evidence!).
Greg had a girlfriend, Jess, with whom he fathered a child. This relationship failed so he started seeing Nicky (leggy, beautiful, smart, high maintenance). Jess made allegations that Greg had hit her, it went to court and he was unceremoniously banged up in July last year then released on licence with instructions not to go near her or the child. Nicky stood by him and all was well for the rest of the summer until they fell out after she produced a bag of cocaine after a night out and started to punch Greg so he hit her and she went to the police. Telling me the story later his version was “I told her you don’t allow drugs in the house, she kept punching me as she was so pissed so I told her if she did it again I’d punch her back. She did it again, so I punched her – after all, I had warned her”. Yes, but then he went on the run so the local Bobbies took the opportunity to come to my house for a cup of tea and the master room keys.
Greg went to Jess for comfort, Nicky let herself into his room whilst drunk/high, poured oil in the iron and kettle, smeared moisturiser on his clothes and fell asleep outside his bedroom door. The other tenants nudged her a couple of times to check she was alive then did the sensible thing and left her to it – stepping over her on the way to the bathroom. My tenants may not be rocket scientists, but they’re clever enough to know when not to get involved.
Greg phoned to say what had happened, Nicky sent me a long apologetic text and I just laughed – after all it wasn’t my clothes or love life. They kissed and made up – much to Jess’s disapproval. She went to the police to say that Greg had broken his licence conditions and, before you could say “Show me the evidence”, he’d been rearrested and thrown back into prison.
That’s not the end: Jess called to ask to be let into his room for retrieval of her jogging bottoms and, being the empathetic kind of girl I am, said if she got a signed note from him or was accompanied by the police, I was happy to oblige. In the meantime, Nicky contacted me to ask if she could “do the room up” as a nice surprise for Greg when he got out – just a feature wall, new lampshade, etc. He’s given her a key so I don’t think I can technically stop her but did suggest that maybe he’d appreciate a chilled bottle of Asti, soft music and her dressed in Ann Summers instead.
Andrew also fell out with his girlfriend. Apparently it was down to the fact that she’s a bit posh and likes him for being rough and roguish but in the last year he’s become a bit too sensible by looking for a job and learning to budget. We bumped into each other outside Sainsburys where he said even though it had been three days, he was really missing her. The next day she called to say she wanted to get back with him, didn’t know she could trust him so could she see the CCTV footage of the last few days to check he hadn’t had other women in? I said no on the basis that I promised the tenants the CCTV wasn’t there for spying only for incidences they’d reported.
“Thanks for that” said Andrew “As I did have a couple of girls sleep over and she would’ve flipped her lid”.
“Andrew! It’s only been a few days – is that how you get over a broken heart?”
“Yeah, what else did you expect me to do?”