The very naughty detour around London

I really wish I could describe the huge contrast in my mood from just a few days before. Sitting on the train from Glasgow to London I couldn’t stop smiling at the fun I had just had with the girls and for the first time since I’d been living back in England I felt I belonged to something. The fact is, my heart was still with the wonderful people I had met in the US and I had to accept that I had not just been grieving for my failed marriage but also for the close friendships that I was enivitably going to lose over time. It is part of life when you move area that this happens, the promises to keep in touch are genuine but the change in circumstances make the promises harder to keep.  The British Ladies club had been a very important part of my life, we all had that one thing in common. There was a kind of bond, an understanding and empathy that I have never experienced anywhere else in my life.  I missed not being able to call a friend to go for coffee or a happy hour drink, instead I had to make do with a FaceTime, Skype or a text message and with a 6 hour time zone to consider. I had a lot of friends in Houston and I missed them all.

Sitting on the train looking out of the window I was able to remind myself and admire the beauty that my home country had to offer. Miles and miles of glorious countryside and the four hour journey to London gave me a chance to think about my life, not just reflecting on the past but thinking about my future too. With a much more positive frame of mind, I was able to make some decisions on that journey home. I thought about what I needed to do to move forward, I had already made the decision to find a new counsellor but I thought about what else I could do that would improve my happiness. 

I was having one of those ‘positive, you can do it’ chats with myself, what were the things I enjoyed in the past that could start doing again? One of those things was going to the gym. In the US I was a regular at Body Combat and Zumba classes and my plan was to continue those in the UK. I had already found a gym local to me that offered those classes but the gym’s booking system and number of people wanting to attend them meant it was virtually impossible for me to get a regular slot. I was someone that liked routine in my life so I would have to think of something else to keep fit. I also decided I would contact Lucy and Isabella, the ladies I’d met recently at a local ladies night out group to see if they fancied meeting up again.  Finally I felt I needed to seriously start looking for a job as that would give me a focus and an opportunity to meet more new people that weren’t connected to my old life. By the time the train pulled into London, I had a plan. My ‘can do’ attitude was returning and all because of the two fun days in Glasgow. 

There was of course my love life to consider, I’d had a bit of a bad run lately but I wasn’t going to give up just yet so I contacted Paul. I matched with Paul on Tinder a few weeks before, we had swapped numbers and had been chatting along with a few saucy texts via watsapp. He was a 26 yr old Irishman living in London and he promised me he still had his accent and the southern Irish accent was one of my favourites. He said to me once that if ever I was in London I should contact him, so I did.  I told him I would be passing through around 3:30pm if he fancied meeting for a drink. To my surprise he said yes.  But after my recent experiences of ‘players’, I decided I wouldn’t believe he was going to meet me until I actually saw him in the flesh and I certainly wouldn’t be waiting around for long to see if was going to arrive. A few exchanges later and the meet up was agreed. The plan was that once I arrived in Euston I would text him with a suitable meeting point. 

The first thing I wanted to do when I got off the train in London was ‘spend a penny’, as I was approaching the toilets I could see there was a Starbucks close by so I text Paul to tell him I’d meet him there and that I would be the one struggling with the green carry-on suitcase and a rucksack. He replied he was wearing a blue shirt and long raincoat, I had visions of a ‘flasher’ with that description! There were a lot of people around and I was wondering how I would find him but I didn’t have to as he saw me first and called out my name as I was struggling to get through the turnstile of the toilets with my suitcase. I was excited he actually turned up and we decided to find a place to have a drink just outside the station.

It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon in London and I  was enjoying a pint of cider sitting outside in a beer garden with a young Irishman. No sooner had we sat down, he started to kiss me…….in public…. that was a first! He clearly wasn’t worried about the age difference. It took me back a bit, I wasn’t expecting that.

I was enjoying myself in the pub garden, I had missed the good ole British pubs whilst living in Houston and I had to apologise for being a bit giggly and explained about my weekend (& the story of the woman who had sex with a tree named Tim.) It wouldn’t have been funny to anyone other than the girls I’d been in Glasgow with but in my line of sight there was a knobbly tree that I just had to take a picture of and send to them with the comment “I think I’ve found my Tim”.   

But after a little while Paul had other ideas, I had to drink up as he wanted to take me back to his place.  I knew exactly what that meant and for some reason I had no hesitation. It was like something out of a movie, he hailed a black cab, we jumped in and were all over each other sitting on the back seat. I have never behaved like that in my life but it was so exciting.  I caught a glimpse of the taxi driver looking in his mirror at us with a knowing smile, I wondered what he must be thinking…I had an idea! 

Paul flat was in a typical London Town house, of course he had to be on the third of fourth floor, the stairs were narrow so he helped me with my case.  His apartment was a bit student like, clothes lying around and a bit cluttered but at least he lived alone. Sitting on his sofa we resumed our passion, he was a bit of an eager beaver but for once that didn’t bother me. He was reluctant to take me in his bedroom because he said his bed squeaked but I managed persuaded him to as I felt it would be more comfortable than his sofa but he wasn’t joking, half of London would know what was going on so I agreed to head back to the lounge. To my surprise he literally picked me up there and then, still ‘in the act’, that has never happened to me before either and he certainly didn’t look strong enough to handle that major feat! We carried on for a little while but these youngsters have more stamina than I can handle so we adopted the oral position instead. As for what happened next, I’ve decided it is a bit TMI to write fully but let’s just say the condom he had previously been using made him taste horrible and I had a little accident whilst reaching for the tissue! It was a funny sight seeing him with his finger on the trigger of a bottle of Flash and cleaning cloth in his hand cleaning up my ‘spillage’…..I was embarrassed but it was funny!

I made a hasty exit after that, Paul helped me down with my case and told me where the nearest tube station was. As soon I left his apartment, I realised I actually had no clue where the hell I was.  But luckily the London Underground is easy and I had a tube map to help find my way. When I got to the station, my ticket didn’t work and I realised it was because I had gone ‘off grid’ but the helpful member of staff was Scottish and he was more interested in the fact that I had been in Glasgow that he didn’t question the ticket’s validity.  I had to take a couple of tube trains to get me to my final train home.  I had been completely reckless, completely out of character but it was probably one of the most exhilarating things I’ve ever done and it’s very unlikely ever to happen again.

Next….. taking stock and moving forward.