What now???

So I have a couple of days to update you on and it is fair to say that this will be a long update so get yourself comfy and a cup of tea/glass of wine etc....oh and make sure you have had a wee...


Ready?  OK, I will begin....


So after the phone call regarding the meter I did not make any contact.  On reflection calling him back on that occasion may not have been the best thing to do and of course, now Bert thinks he is swinging by with McDonalds on Saturday morning.


This has caused much amusement amongst the audience of this blog, this was apparent from the reaction at work, mainly at my complete inability to deal with the situation effectively...


More recently Hot Guy (who does read this) has felt it necessary to interject himself into my life to try and sort out this farce.  Many a discussion has now been had about the fact that I am indeed an idiot when it comes to matters such as this. Apparently, where I have been going wrong is that I have been giving off the wrong signals, I have pointed out I have given no such signals but the key issue seems to be that I have at no point said NO - which, according to boys, is what you need to do.  I am still slightly perplexed by this as what exactly am I saying No to?  He has not actually asked me anything.  In fact, I have been waiting for him to ask so that I can then say no.... but he has not asked...


Based on the fact that I am not familiar with such situations and what to say, Hot Guy has pointed out that if I don't nip it in the bud I will end up getting married to Bert (after all, we would be having dinner on Saturday - McDonalds is not dinner) or failing that, I will have to move house just to avoid him....


So, I am now banned from speaking or communicating with Bert without consulting with Hot Guy first.  Hot Guy feels he is an expert in dealing with such situations (I did not like to ask how he became such an expert ;) ) and will be able to tell me the correct thing to say.  OK.  All agreed.


Got back to my desk, following this conversation, to a missed call on my mobile and a voice mail message.  Bert. Seriously?  Cannot even remember what the message was now but it did not require a call back and so I did not.  Later in the afternoon I return to my desk from a meeting to another missed call. Bert. No Message.  Therefore did not call back.


Friday arrives and various meetings to attend in the office (just for a change!).  Come back from meeting.  Missed call and message.  Bert.  Message, I felt had a bit of a tone and went something like "Hi, it's just me Bert, I have not heard from you so am calling to see if you are OK"........ OMG.  What now?


Go and track down Hot Guy and seek advice (following previous instructions).  Hot Guy instructs me what to say via text - which went something like this


"Hi, been really busy.  Sorry I did not call you back but I did not think it was important.  off out now and friend is staying over tonight, we will be out in the am on Saturday."


Perfect.  Message sent.


Had also thought that if Hot Guy wants to help out so much (in respect of this situation) that another option would be that he comes and sits in my house in his pants and when Bert comes round, Hot Guy answers the door.  This would purely be in the name of helping me with the Bert situation.  Ran this stroke of genius by Hot Guy who thought this could work, on the provision that he could wear socks as well, otherwise he might feel under dressed.  Did not feel I could object.  Did point out that I did not know when Bert would actually call round and so Hot Guy might to have to sit for a while in his pants in my house........ I repeat, all in the name of helping me out....... 


So then 5pm came and a few of us were out to play for a belated birthday session.  


I was brave and wore the skinniest jeans the world has seen, the sort where you need to use both hands just to get them over your feet....  In order to facilitate skinny jeans I did have to opt for the large pants.  I am not kidding when I say large pants.  If you think you know what I am talking about because you have seen Bridget Jones, then let me just say, her pants, not a patch on mine....


....They start above my knees and resemble cycling shorts in that respect, come right up to under my boobs and then have straps (like braces) to keep them from falling down.  All in the aid of that slightly more streamlined and less lumpy look - which, to be fair they worked.  However, and I can see you wondering this, what happens when you need a wee?  Well, and I can hardly believe I am about to tell you this (but I am because it is funny) there is a strategically placed hole in the suit, presumable with the aim that you don't have to take all your clothes off just to have a pee.  which in theory is great, however, there was clearly a lack of thought on my part as logistically the only way you could use the hole properly would be to literally straddle the toilet with one leg either side of the bowl.  Great.  Does not work if you have skinny jeans on though does it?  So I had two options, take my jeans off and straddle or just take my top off so I could take the straps off.  I went for the latter option, but did therefore require supervision every-time I went for a wee.....Might need to have a rethink for next time...


We had a good night, few wines and vodkas and then last train home.  Mable (obv not really called Mable) came back to mine and slept in Little D's cabin bed - secretly, I think she enjoyed it.


This brings us to this morning.


Now, I was supremely confident that there would be no further phone calls or a McDonalds visit from Bert due to the expert advice from Hot Guy.  Mable and I had a (rather unsurprisingly) slow start to the morning but not long after I had showered and dressed - still with wet hair and Mable in Pyjamas - there is a knock at the door....... ohhhhh nooooo really?