Post-Joe Post-Mortem

Music: Girls and Boys - Blur

I told my work mate Mick about the lingering kiss from Joe, but since it happened I am almost doubting whether it actually did or not. Did I imagine it to be more than it was or did Joe try to kiss me?

Oh I don’t know anymore. Either way, when I relived the moment and described it to Mick I could see his face light up and his eyes twinkle, partly because he had almost predicted it but mostly because he now had some brilliant material to wind me up with for months and months. The wanker. I suppose that as a married man he has to get his kicks from somewhere and I seem to be an easy target. If only he knew what happened with me and Foxy Scott!

On hearing my news, Mick went into overdrive.

“Ha ha! I knew it!” Mick exclaimed loudly so the entire office could hear him. “I knew that Joe always had a soft spot for you.”

I slid down my chair and inwardly cringed.

“Just imagine,” Mick continued as he stared into the mid-distance. “You and Joe start a passionate affair, and after only a couple of months you move into his palatial mansion and give up work to start podding out babies. I can see it now: baby Tarquin in one arm and baby Fifi in the other. Of course, you can afford to give up work as Joe earns so much he can probably afford to wipe his arse on £50 notes. It sounds perfect. Don’t forget who saw it all coming first. I’ll expect a seat on the top table at the wedding.”

“Ha ha very amusing Mick,” I replied, “But that’s not happening anywhere other than in the twisted fantasyland that is your brain.”

“Ooh, get you,” Mick chided in an overly gay fashion. “Well, let’s just see what happens with you two on the next work’s night out. You could share a taxi back to his maybe? A couple of drinks, who knows…?”

“Shhh, will you be quiet!” I whispered to Mick.

I didn’t want everyone to hear my business, let alone make them think that something was happening with me and Joe.

As Mick babbled on I could see that Dan’s ears had pricked up and that he was taking it all in. Fortunately, unlike everyone, else he knows what Mick is like (and is my friend) so I wasn't worried about him spreading any gossip.  Usually he would be piling in with the wind ups but he kept out of it, I guess because he doesn't really know Joe very well...

But why did I decide to tell Mick about Joe when I knew he’d make me the butt of all his jokes? I’m struggling to remember. Oh yeah, it was to get a second opinion as to whether the lingering kiss on the cheek actually meant something. Not that Mick has any clue. Blokes are rubbish at that sort of thing, so I guess I’ve just embarrassed myself and received no real insight.

Great.

Must turn my attention back to internet dating.  I can hardly wait...

Kiss Kiss

Music: Kiss Kiss - Holly Valance

My friend Joe had never put a kiss on the end of a text message to me before and I’ve known him for a couple of years.

I read hs message again:

I can’t believe Leeds have stayed up! Sorry if I was a bit quiet after the game. I’ll look forward to seeing you soon for a few drinks :-) x

I had two choices:

1. Reply to his message and just be friendly, ending it without a kiss and hope that he got the subtle subtext. Do men understand subtlety?

2. Reply to his message and be friendly and end it with a kiss, therefore effectively encouraging him and potentially setting the creaking wheels of romance into motion.

As I drove home from the game I considered all the pros and cons of leaving that one extra character at the end of a text message. It’s amazing that one little ‘x’ can mean so much.  It can turn a friendly message into so much more.

Pros of the ‘x’:

• Joe likes rugby. 
• He has a good job.
• He’s not that bad looking. 
• We get on well.
• I’ve known him for so long that I know he’s not a wanker.

Cons of the ‘x’:

• I don’t fancy him, and I mean really fancy him enough to put our friendship on the line.
• He’s a bit older than I’d like my boyfriend to be.
• It would be weird hanging around with him and my friends at the same time as they don't have much in common.
• I don’t fancy him. I mean, I just don’t fancy him enough. I must learn from what happened with John for goodness sake.

But Joe is good on paper, so should I settle for that? I’m not getting any younger and on paper he is an excellent catch.

No, what am I thinking?

I didn’t start out on this experiment just to “settle” for someone because I think they might be the best I can get, especially if there’s no real chemistry between us.  If I did that then I would feel like I had cheated myself despite everything I promised I wouldn't to do this time around.

To clarify my decision I matched Joe up against my Perfect 10:

The Perfect 10 Checklist: Joe

1. Looks

Joe is sort of good looking but more average I think – well, in my opinion anyway. As he’s a bit older things might have started to sag too... Put it this way: I don’t look at him and go weak at the knees/experience any dampness in the knicker region.  So it's a no.

2. Sense of humour

I never really laugh that much with Joe and he certainly has never had me rolling around on the floor in hysterics. Mostly we have quite serious conversations, and even when it’s light hearted I don’t really get much from him humour wise. Therefore as lovely a bloke as he is, it’s a no in this section too.

3. Being Down to Earth

Joe works as an IT consultant so you might assume that he’s up his own arse, but this is so far from the truth and I couldn’t be friends with him if he was, so it's a yes here.

4. Loyalty and Trust

Yes, I think so. He’s definitely loyal to the team we both support, but when it comes to romantic relationships I’m not sure as we’ve never talked about his romantic past. I mean, I assume he's had girlfirends?  He was always trustworthy at work though and I think it’s enough to earn a point.

5. Kindness

Sometimes Joe can be a little detached but on the whole he’s a lovely, generous man, so it's a yes here.

6. Have a strong sense of family

He holidays with his brother and his nephews and spends a lot of time with his family, so a definite yes.  Bit weird holidaying with his brother though, don't you think?

7. Solvency

Definitely.

8. Ambition and a drive to succeed

He is self employed and is successfully running his own business, so yes.

9. Different interests

I’m not too sure. I know he loves skiing (which I’ve never tried as I’d probably kill myself) so that counts, as does golf, but rugby is his main love. I’d still say yes to this one and give him a point.

10. Romance

No idea as I didn’t get far enough to find out.  As I’ve said, I’ve never heard anything about any previous relationships so this will have to be nul points for this criterion due to lack of information.

Marks out of 10: 7

Conclusion: I think that Joe is the typical “Mr. Looks Good on Paper” but in reality there’s still something missing. I think in his case it is the spark that lights up and shines when you really fancy someone. I’ve never felt that tingling sensation when he touches me and I’ve never felt my stomach flip when I see him. To me he’s just lovely, dependable Joe, who has dozens of amazing qualities but who just doesn’t set my world (or pants) on fire. I suppose that at least I learnt to step away this time before burning my fingers.

I’ve decided.

I sent him the following text:

It was a brilliant game - I'm still bouncing!  I’ll definitely see you soon and I’ll remind Mick to get a night out organised. :-)

Friendly, funny and no kiss. Although, reading it back to myself was I a little bit too flirty? Oh well sod it, I sent it and it was too late to change it.

A few minutes later my phone buzzed with an incoming text message, again from Joe:

Great I’ll look forward to it. I’ve not seen Mick and the other guys in ages. I’m off to go and have a couple of pints and celebrate our win! See you soon. Take care :-)

Phew, no kiss and problem averted. I think.

I’m going to have a chat about this with my work mate Mick to see if he’s picked up on anything from Joe, but then again it will probably be very painful as Mick will undoubtedly whip his big shit-stirring stick out and have a field day.

I’m glad I screwed my head on firmly over this one as I’d hate to ruin another friendship, especially as it would mean that I’d have to find another willing soul to watch the majority of home games with next season.

Joe is a brilliant guy, but just not perfect for me. 

I'm almost 100% convinced of that...

Mixed Messages

Music: Be the One - Ting Tings

I had been to watch a crucial end of season rugby match with my friend Joe and we had shared a friendly hug.  It was just friendly, right?  Here's what happened next...

After we clapped the team off the pitch, Joe and I were swept along with all the other fans towards one of the many exits. We were both absolutely buzzing about the result and I'm pretty sure I bounced down the street with the biggest smile on my face ever.

Joe had parked his car in pretty much the opposite direction to mine so after a few minutes’ walk it was time to go our separate ways. All of a sudden things seemed a little awkward between us and I wondered if he was freaked out when I grabbed his arm during the last five minutes of the game.  I really hoped not.  I didn’t mean anything by it - I just felt so stressed and nervous and needed a bit of steadying.  And what about our hug after the final whistle?  It was just a friendly hug between two mates.  Wasn't it?

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a month or so when Mick finally arranges a night out,” Joe said as he stood opposite me, his hands firmly in his pockets.

“Yeah definitely,” I replied. “I think I might just have recovered from today to go for a night out by then!” I laughed.

“OK then. It was really good to see you today," Joe said. “So I’ll see you soon...”

With that he moved towards me, put his hand on my arm and kissed me on the cheek.

Unlike when we met and he kissed me on the cheek before the game, this time he seemed to linger.  His lips were gentle and and for a couple of seconds I thought he was going to kiss me on the lips. I felt myself blushing and I gently touched his arm and pulled my face away from him. Joe looked uncomfortable and like he was lost in no-man’s land.

"Er, would you like to go and grab a drink now?" he asked cautiously.  His hands were back in his pockets and he was looking sheepishly at the floor.

Gulp.  Suddenly it didn't feel like a friend asking a friend if they fancied a beer.

"Um, I'd love to but I'm really sorry, I can't," I replied.

It was true, I couldn't, as I had to drive over to my parent's straight after.  But why did I say I would love to?  Was that encouraging him - if there was anything to encourage?

"Oh, yeah, that's right.  You did tell me you had to shoot off straight after the match," Joe replied.

I smiled at him.

“Right then. Well I guess I’ll see you soon,” I said quickly as I opened my bag and searched for my car keys.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll see you soon,” Joe replied in a fluster. “Bye then.”

As soon as he said goodbye he dashed off in the opposite direction, leaving me standing alone like a confused statue.


What was that? Did I just imagine it? I think something just happened back there. Did Joe try to kiss me as in properly kiss me? No, that’s not right. Joe’s my rugby friend. My friend! I know that I’ve flirted with the idea of what it would be if we got together in my head but I’ve never seriously considered it. I mean, I don’t even fancy Joe, do I? Well, maybe an ever so tiny little bit, but that’s not enough to put a friendship on the line.

And then there’s his age. I mean, he’s over forty and I am in my prime. Does age really matter so much?

I think that Joe and I are at different points of our lives. I very much doubt that he’s going to want to go out and party as much as I do and it would be weird socialising with him and my friends at the same time. I remember what it was like with John and the disaster that turned into. John was a friend who fancied me and because I felt so flattered I went along with it, even though I knew deep down that I didn’t really like him in that way and it wasn’t right. Why was I even considering doing the same thing with Joe? And more to the point, I might have got this all wrong and have completely misread the situation in the wake of our team’s amazing win.

As I walked back to my car, totally lost in my thoughts my phone vibrated in my pocket and snapped me out of it. It was a text message from Joe:


I can’t believe Leeds have stayed up! Sorry if I was a bit quiet after the game.  I’ll look forward to seeing you soon for a few drinks :-) x

Oh, that’s new.

He has never put a kiss on the end of a text message to me before and I’ve known him for a couple of years.

Shit.

Does that mean what I think it means?
I think he likes me...

To be continued...

The Result

Music: Game For Fools - Jamie Lidell

So there I was at the crucial rugby game having just met up with my good friend Joe.  If my team won they'd be safe.  If they lost they could be relegated.  I was as nervous as hell and so was Joe.  I could sense it when he kissed me hello on my cheek...  My colleague Mick had been winding me up and saying that Joe could be the perfect guy for me, and on paper he is.  But at 13 years older than me I just didn't know.  And I wasn't sure if I fancied him - even with his villa in Spain...

As I'd arrived at the ground just before kick off there was no time for me to have a nerve-calming drink.  Instead Joe and I headed outside and assumed our usual position in the South Stand, just to the right of the touchline and behind the mini-orchestra.

The drummer banged his drum and the crowd cheered as the team line-up was relayed over the tannoy. The tension was building and I could feel it in the air.  The cheer leaders dashed out onto the pitch with flags waving and pom-poms bouncing as the players readied themselves in the bowels of the stadium. The butterflies in my stomach were flapping in anticipation as to what would happen next. Only eighty minutes separated my team from possible relegation and the desperate feeling of disappointment that it brings. Not even a couple of text messages I received from my work mates Mick and Dan with jokes about “going down” were going to make me smile. Well, maybe a bit.

The crowd roared and everyone was on their feet as the team ran onto the pitch. Flags waved and chants circled the ground before being whipped away on the wind. Joe looked pretty nervous too, and over the next eighty minutes we lived and breathed every tackle, scrum and lineout, cheering our hearts out for the team we both love.

The first half began.  Three successful penalties for us in the first 25 minutes.  A score for them.  We almost get a try but ball is knocked forwards.

At half time we were winning 12 – 3.  It was a lead but I was starting to feel stressed. The half time entertainment didn’t do much to lighten the mood and the entire crowd was on tenterhooks. Whilst I watched the cheer leaders bump, grind and shake their thang, Joe disappeared off to the burger van and returned a couple of minutes later with two polystyrene cups of steaming hot tea. It’s as if he’d read my mind.

We chatted about the game so far and how we'd been playing pretty well, just as the players started to run out for the second half. I could see in their body language that they looked really up for it.  I said a little prayer under my breath.

The second half started like a whirlwind, with the opposition throwing everything at us.  A stupid mistake let them run in a brilliant try, which was converted to take the score to 12-10.  I was feeling really uncomfortable now.  Ten minutes left.  Out of the corner of my eye I could see Joe jigging up and down. I couldn’t work out if it was from nerves or if he trying to keep warm as it wasn't that chilly.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“Yeah. Well, no.” Joe replied. “This is torture. I can’t bear it."

“I know what you mean,” I agreed. “I kind of wish I’d just stayed at home and listened to it on the radio.”

Joe looked at me and pulls his most wounded face.

“No I didn’t mean it like that!” I exclaimed. “You know I love coming to watch the rugby with you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Joe laughed.

We turned our attention back to the game.

“Come on Leeds! Get your tackles in first time!” Joe shouted anxiously.

I could tell by the look on his face that he was hating every second, so in an effort to try and calm him down I gently placed my hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze.

Joe diverted his eyes from the pitch and looked at me with a grateful smile. At least I think it was a grateful smile.

Five minutes of the game left and the score line was still 12-10. I could hardly bear it any more. The crowd cheered in time with the drum to try and lift the tired bodies of our players. If we could just hold on or score another penalty, that would hopefully be enough.

Just as I was silently praying for this, the opposition are awarded another penalty themselves.  It was 55 metres out.  Surely they aren't going to go for goal?  The kicker pointed to the posts and the entire stand held its breath.  A few people jeered in an attempt to put him off as he lined up his strike.  He ran up, boot connected with ball.....  And it was short!  He missed!

The linesmen waved their flags to indicate that the kick was bad, leaving the score still agonisingly poised at 12-10 with just a couple of minutes left to play.

The butterflies in my stomach started to flip over and over and I just couldn't watch it any more. I turned to Joe and placed my cheek on his shoulder and linked his arm with mine, then faced the opposite way to the pitch.

“I don’t want to know what’s happening unless it’s another score for us,” I said into the wooliness of his jumper. “Please, please let us score.”

I really couldn't look.

One minute left and the crowd was still cheering and willing the team on, when all of a sudden the noise stopped and for a few seconds there was almost silence. I felt Joe’s body tense up before the crowd erupted into cheers.

“What just happened?” I shouted and span around to face the pitch.

Everyone is punching the air and the rest of the squad is running onto the pitch.

"It's over!  We've won!" Joe yelled.  "They tried to go for a drop goal, but we charged it down and kicked it out!  We've won!  WE'VE WON!"

I started leaping around and clapping and screaming.  A few tears welled up in my eyes.  Tears of pride.  The atmposhere was amazing.  Everyone was clapping and cheering.  It was brilliant. 

I looked at Joe and he smiled.  Suddenly he stopped clapping and grabbed me for a massive hug.  I was so caught up in the excitement of the victory it felt totally natural.  And nice.  It felt nice.

But it ended all too quickly when a drunk guy stumbled into us.  Joe made sure I was OK then carried on smiling at me.  I quickly turned back to the pitch and started applauding the players again.

What was that?

Was I imagining things or did he want to be more than friends?  I was about to find out....

Game On

Music: F.E.A.R. - Ian Brown

Last weekend really was action packed.

First up on Saturday was the much heralded Blogger's Night Out where I met up the lovely Tuppence, Rapunzel, Gingerella and Helen. 

We all had a great time.  We talked, drank copious amounts of wine and shared the blogging love.  Well, something like that. 

Happily on Sunday morning I woke up with no real hangover, and I got back to Leeds just in time for the main event of my weekend.  (No offence ladies!).

The big game.  The crucial game.  The rugby game of the season.

The game that ended up with two results: one that I hoped for; the other that came totally out of left field.

And yes, one of those results involved a man. 

In order to get there I have to tell you about the rugby first... 

Call me weird, but I really love the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach as I walk toward the rugby ground with other fans on the day of a crucial match. It feels like there is a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping around before they manage to escape and burst into a shot of pure adrenaline.

As usual, I was wearing my replica shirt and I was rushing to get into the ground as I was running late.  There was absolutely no way I was going to miss kick off though. Sunday's game was so important as it was a dog eat dog relegation battle.  If my team won they would survive in the Premiership and the other team would be relegated.  If my boys lost, it would mean a tense final game of the season with the spectre of relegation looming large.  I was as nervous as hell.

I really hoped it would be a big turnout to support the lads, as over the past couple of months the crowds had been dwindling. As I approached the ground and the number of fans increased I could see a sea of yellow and blue flags pouring in through the turnstiles.  I sensed a buzz in the atmosphere that I only seem to feel on days like this. I smiled and felt thankful that the faithful were back out in numbers.

I was meeting up with my ex-colleague Joe to watch the game, as he’s also a season ticket holder and is one of my regular rugby match day mates. If Joe’s not around then I’ll either drag my Dad along (having learnt never to bring him when I’m going with a bloke, oh the embarrassment) or if he’s not up for it then I’ll go and watch the game on my own. I know, it sounds a little bit tragic but honestly it’s not. None of my friends like rugby but it's fine, as when I do go and watch games on my own I still feel part of a combined force of fans all willing the team on to win.  I invariably end up chatting with the people around me and have a bit of a laugh.

Oh, and I silently drool over the players and any fitties in the crowd. Obviously.

Headingley Stadium is a fantastic venue but then again I am rather biased.  As I finally reached the turnstile and heard it click when I scanned my ticket I could smell the unmistakable smell of fried onions and hotdogs wafting on the breeze. From the South Stand I could hear the trumpets and the banging of the drum which roused the supporters into song. Ten minutes to go until kick off and I rushed towards the bar which is where I was meeting Joe.

Joe and I used to work together until he left about a year ago to follow the more lucrative path of the self-employed IT consultant.  We still see each other pretty regularly though at rugby games and on the occasional work night out.  I really like Joe and we get on brilliantly well. 

I’ll never forget the first time we had a proper conversation with each other when a few of us went out one Friday after work.  Everyone had sunk a few shandies and I was busy mingling when I bumped into Joe and we ended up talking to each other for the first time. I knew that he liked rugby so we chatted about that for what turned out to be a couple of hours.  At the end of the conversation he announced that he was really impressed: finally he’d found a woman who could talk intelligently about sport. I felt rather pleased with myself, but then grimaced slightly. I didn’t always like the tag of being “one of the boys”, but it was nice to meet someone with similar interests.

Since then Joe and I started to watch games together and when he left the company we stayed in touch. My colleague Mick takes great pleasure in winding me up about my friendship with Joe and pointing out that he would make an excellent Sugar Daddy. It’s true, Joe is thirteen years older than me, is quite attractive, very single and from all accounts very comfortably well off. The problem is I just don’t fancy him and I’m not sure if I ever could.

I have thought about it though.  Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if we did get together: amazing sex (with age comes experience after all); fantastic holidays; great lifestyle, and maybe he would want to have children reasonably soon (he’d definitely be able to support a family with his income).

But then again he probably has a saggy arse, is incontinent and struggles to get it up.

However, all that aside, I’m not sure if we would have anything to talk about other than rugby...

Mick does make a very good case for Joe, painting the picture of spending a month chilling at Joe’s Spanish villa or swooshing down the slopes with him in France (as Joe goes on at least one skiing holiday a year) but there’s something missing. A spark maybe? Or is it because he’s so much older than me?

Either way, I tried to put all these thoughts out of my mind as I swept into the bar and caught Joe’s eye. I worked my way through the scrum of people and we said hello and kissed each other on the cheek.

To be continued...