I don't think I've mentioned the aversion I have developed for the pub. Every time I even think about going in that place, I feel a wave of anxiety rush over me; my heart races, I get all shaky. It means getting ready is a nightmare; you try applying eyeliner with a wobbly right hand. The anxiety doesn't stop when I'm there either. I have to drink my wine with both hands. I know, it's crazy.
You see there are few issues with that place for me now. Obviously first and foremost is Mr CBA, now a neighbour of the bloody place and in there ALL THE TIME. Pretty sure he's an alcoholic tbh. Anyway, that's one thing.
The second thing is that I kind of got indirectly fired from my job there. I know, can you believe it? Me, the mouthy one who always thought she knew better - fired?! Just before my holiday I got in touch with my old manager asking for my once-a-week shift back. His response was not too great. He said one night a week doesn't really work for him, could I do more shifts? Well obviously not. I don't get in until late Monday to Friday and I don't fancy working a seven day week. So, that was that. No more pub. Six years of rooting for that place and it's over. I was gutted.
In retrospect it was probably a good thing. If even the thought of having a drink in that place makes me come over all a-wobble what would I be like being stuck there for six hours a week. My whole six pound an hour pay would be spent on glass breakages.
I've been attempting to break this pub phobia or whatever the hell I've got going on. Rather than out right avoiding the place I do try to go in, but only with the folks, they understand my madness.
I hadn't been in the pub since well before my holiday. I wanted to go in and hand my apron back and ask for my P45 (aka make things awkward). On Saturday night I went in with the folks. It was ok. We met up with some friends of ours too and I managed to spend some of the time talking to (aka flirting with) a few of the regulars. Obviously Mr CBA was there. I know I should have been adult and mature about things but you've got to understand how hard it is for me to even look at him, not least hold eye contact. When I do I feel all that drama come flooding back, mainly me feeling a massive fool. So I completely ignored him. It was ok.
Sunday my folks suggested a walk up to the new clubhouse, just opened up the road from their house. I thought yea, I might see a few of the familiar pub faces; it will be fun. As soon as I walk in who's voice should I hear booming above the rest? Mr fucking CBA. Great. I've pretty much spent my entire weekend indirectly in his company. I very nearly turned around and marched back home, instead I threw my bag down on the picnic bench and vented my anger to my folks.
A few drinks in and my mum was a little drunk (it doesn't take much, she was only a third of her way through her second half). She says; 'Aw look at him Shell, he's up here with all those couples. He could have come to ours for a barbie later. What a plonker.'
As more of her Peroni disappeared the looser she got; 'He's not that bad really. I feel sorry for him.' (don't worry, I had a right go at her about that one). And then she said; 'Shall I tell you what Dave said?' (Bit of background info; Dave's a pub regular who now drinks in the clubhouse, he's nice, he sits with my folks sometimes for a drink) obviously I was intrigued... 'He said that Mr CBA feels a complete idiot, that he does still like you. And Shell, I've seen him keep looking at you all wistfully.'
Firstly I don't think Mr CBA even knows what 'wistfully' means, let alone be able to act it. Secondly, wtf?! My drunk mother has just thrown me a fucking grenade. I wanted to detonate it right then and there to save myself from the emotional confusion that I knew would follow. But to be honest the more I thought about it the better it made me feel. I hope it is true. I hope he does feel a fool. God knows I've felt like one for long enough.
So it's bad right? Its bad I feel good about this? It's bad that he is even still on my emotional horizon. How I would love to be like 'Mr CBA who?'. I'm just not sure I will ever be like that, well not until I fall for someone else anyway. Also it's really bad that I've been thinking about him again; I was doing so well. Oh, and its also really REALLY bad that when I looked at him yesterday I wanted to squeeze his face again. Squeeze his face and punch it at the same time. Shit this sucks.
It's ok though, I know the cause of all this; it's seeing him. I'm planning on avoiding that again for a while.
