75 Miles and Fucked Off (Part 2)

Oh hello from part 1.

Time to sit back, buckle up and enjoy the brilliant immaturity of a 36 year old woman….If you’re reading this then

you’re a bitch….

Anyway!

I had awoken to the hostel bedroom, which was affiliated with a bad odour and unsynchronised snorers. As one started another finished. It was a constant throaty rasp.

Then there was my new nemesis – the crisp guzzler. Rustle; crunch; times infinitude. How long does it take a packet of crisps? Seriously!

Shut the fuck up.

The guy above told me there was free ear plugs at reception. I raced towards the desk to collect my treasurs. They gave me 2 sets one for me and the other one to plug in the snorer’s hole of a mouth.

I awoke, slightly dazed and grumpy. I had jam and toast for breakfast, it was an underwhelming affair.

A terrorist attack had happened recently and was plastered over the hostel vs.  I felt a wave of numbness and tried the ‘Keep Calm and Carry On,‘ British philosophy.

I powered up my laptop. Maybe I would have heard from my friend. I was now too apprehensive to speak to her, anxiety hit me.

screnn1

I then got a message from her saying she was busy today I’m afraid, we’d prefer not to see you.

My plan to go out at 11 shuffled to 11:20 as I was trying to get my head around it.

I hate when I overthink. But I just sat there – numb. Confused. Shaking. Scared. Upset. Blamed?

She didn’t want to discuss it, and that I should  accept her decision.

Yet, how,  I could accept something that I have no idea about? I explained how I made a lot of effort to see them both, and said it was rude to not tell me why.

I told her just to tell me what was on her mind as I deserved some respect.

“Respect… that’s a good word.”

 

Obviously something was on her mind, or I had disrespected her in someway, and I was then told to just leave it again.

I’m a journalist, I’ve been given clues and I like to know how I’ve pissed someone off. I was annoyed that I’d come all this way, purchased a £40 ticket, wasted some good days off. So I admitted the truth, I hope she enjoyed making me feel anxious!

My battery was at 1% as I sat in Frankie and Benny’s alone .

I had to ask for a ‘Table for One.’ I think the waiter spoke to me for sympathy!

The last message said  that she was seeing ‘Now I’m seeing an abusive side to you.” And deleted me off Facebook.

Well I didn’t like that at all. I may do many naughty things, like cheat on pub quizzes and read magazines in the shops without paying for them, but I would never consider myself abusive.

I had bought her son a lollipop the size his face. I knew he’d love it.

I threw it in the bin.

I had my cheeky pizza and left. It felt like the wind had been sucked out of me.

.

I ventured off and took a look at the harbor. There was a special electricity tree made out of panels where you could charge your phone (I opposed this due to the fact the wires were soaking after rainfall) and you could get free Wi-Fi. A lot of the monuments were water themed, with water flowing down steps and walls.

I watched people ice-skating.
An older guy gracefully Torvilled-and-Deaned around, while others clung onto themselves and the sides.

Being part of their pseudo family, I loved it

I felt pushed out from people I trusted… and I didn’t know why. I wanted to go home but my ticket wasn’t until tomorrow.

I cried in front of the great Bristol Ice Rink.

I just felt so numb. This woman had done a 180, I had met her over 10 times and she’d always been lovely, helpful.

My only theory is she’s seen a picture of me and a girl smiling on social media or something. But A. I wasn’t with anyone. B I wasn’t with this woman in that sense anyway. C. Surely if she was jealous about something or confused, she’d talk to me like an adult.

I theorised and theorised and theorised.  I still do to this day.

I went off to an indoor market and back to the hostel, but the sound of ping-pong and Spanish swear words drove me crazy. I met Delippe; he spoke to me about the wifi code and a friendship was born, he had an interview the next day at the MOD. He was talking about dinner, having it at 8pm

I was hungry now – but I thought as I’d made a friend, I’ll keep stomach at bay.

I then went to the library, where I got told off for putting some rubbish in what looked like a bin.  THAT DOES NOT GO IN THERE, a middle aged woman scowled at me.

How I do not miss working in a library. Those with a personality need not apply.

I met with Delippe. . His wife and his child lived in India, and he’d been made redundant and living off Jobseekers since April.

I had yet another pizza with him, and we played a vigorous game of pingpong and I then wished him well in his interview the next morning. I went to check on him in the morning, but when I awoke he was gone. I was all alone again.

 

The last day I was itching to get back  I took one last look around Bristol, looking out for Banksy graffiti, but despite having a map, and having Google Assist, I had not a bloody clue. It didn’t help that Banky’s prescence had turned into Bristol into a graffiti world itself, with many wannabe artists decorating the town with substandard mess. Bet the council wish Mr Banksy hadn’t picked up that spray can now…

I ventured off to Bath, but I wished I hadn’t taken so much heavy bags with me, it was wearing me down and I wasn’t in the mood to explore. I went to Giraffe for another meal for one. I ordered Duck Stir Fry and it came in a cereal bowl!

Food is a good constant for when I feel a bit sad. Yet instead I felt underwhelmed. They had  cheekily added 10% gratuity to the bill!

The waiter came round he said is the price okay?

I wanted the balls to say ‘hang on no,‘ but I didn’t feel strong today.

The experience . It  left a bitter taste in my mouth. Well actually peppery beansprout dull dinner taste. Maybe I should rant at them in a disgruntled Trip Advisor review, get my own back on social media.

I decided to get the train back, and the announcer announced it was full and standing.  He wasn’t lying. It was a bit of a squeeze. I felt like I was in a tin of sardines.

I was so happy to be back with normal company, I’d be so alone for 3 days.  I felt like a right twat as I had boasted to my colleagues about seeing my friends and exploring Bristol with them.

I didn’t have the heart to tell them what really happened.


https://brokenrebellion.wordpress.com/

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s