You're a Good Man Jim

Call me weird if you like but I like taking the bus to work sometimes, usually for the same reason I like trains, and planes, it exposes you to a lot of life. I can quite happily sit there with my iPhone buds in, listening to Nicole Sherzingers Poison on a low volume and do a nice round of people watching on the way to work. On this one day I'm glad I did, because otherwise I would of missed something simple, yet heartwarming.

Now as you can imagine, every bus has its share of odd characters, you have your commuters like me, your heavily pierced students, the old couple going to visit the doctor, even your odd functional alcoholic who stumbles past with the unmistakable scent of whisky hanging about her slightly battered bag. But there is one chap who you cant help but notice, if only because you are trying not too.

I am going to call him Jim for a variety of reasons. One is that I am aiming for anonymity (so I cant get in trouble), another is that he has an uncanny resemblance to the actor who plays Jim Branning from Eastenders. Mainly it's because I don't know his real name, and it's too difficult to tell a story without one.

Now Jim is an older man who uses my bus. He walks with a pronounced limp, and always wears the same slightly stained anorak every time I see him. He shuffles along to his seat slowly after showing his pass with his head permanently looking to the floor. He has some mental problems too, though I couldn't tell you what exactly, he only lifts his head to say a rapid rehearsed sentence before letting it drop down to stare intently at his own feet. Whenever I see him it is usually in the company of a carer of sorts with a visibility coat on, and an official looking pass dangling at his waist. But sometimes I see him on his own, braving the cold and the rain to take the bus into town.

I sometimes like to pretend he has made an escape of sorts, and that maybe in the recesses of his slightly different mind he is having his own private adventure. I like that idea personally because I can see my own grandmother doing the same, and when I really look I realise there is not much difference in their ages.

Now on this one particularly cold and bitter day I was sat near the front of the bus and he at the back when the driver stopped in the middle of a busy main road. I could tell there was a single mum there with what looked like one toddler in one hand a pram in the other, which in turn was precariously balancing some bulging shopping bags. It was clear to everyone that she was having some trouble, trying to manoeuvre her various baggages onto the bus, and we were sat there for a while watching her struggle.

It was then that out of the corner of my eye I saw Jim get up!

He shuffled out of his chair and made for the door in his usual manner, with his head facing down and his hands brought up and knotted together as if in prayer. Without a word he reached down and picked up the bottom of the buggy to help the mum push it in and up the steep first step. The mother saw the obvious and tried to insist that she could manage, but bless Jim he wanted to be a help. He got the pram onto bus and even gave the girl some change when she started trying to fuss over her own purse. It was clear that she was speechless at the unsolicited help, but grateful. I distinctly heard the phrase "real gentleman" at which point dear old Jim bobbed his head and smiled at the floor.

It turned out that the single mum and her brood were only in need of a bus for 2 stops, and no sooner had she sat down, than she was up again. Jim was too, to help her on the way out. The girl was gobsmacked, as were a couple of other nameless faces on my bus, I was too as a matter of fact. One of the more gutsy students in the back row even clapped, at which point Jim lifted his head for a quick "Thank ya suh" before shuffling back to his seat again.

It got off the bus feeling surprisingly upbeat. When I thought about it, I knew it was because of Jim. I don't think he intended to give an old cynic like me some faith in the human condition, I think he just saw someone who needed help and helped them, probably the way he was taught to do when he was a boy in an old bygone time when such things were meant to be more common. I wondered about how we tell ourselves about how people like Jim are vulnerable, and need to be cared for. We then spend all our time gradually pretending they don't exist, safe in the knowledge the somehow, somewhere they are being looked after. Yet here he was helping a relatively capable, albeit overwhelmed woman without invitation or even an incentive of reward. It's a nice feeling to think that in some places, with some people that kind of behaviour is still considered a positive.

I am signing off today by saying that I believe we could all learn a lesson from the Jim's of the world, all we need to do is pay attention.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Reigniting my Social Life

In the good old days of yore, when a young lady/boy/ladyboy reached an age they used to have a big party in an effort to launch themselves into society. These were called debuts, and more recently coming out parties.

The joyful pun you could make out of this is simply too good to resist, so I say I want one now too. I want to have my coming out party, not to "come out of the closet" but to get back out there a little. If I am to be launched however I think it should be like the launch of an intercontinental ballistic missile. Big, flashy, exciting, a little scary, and leaving destruction, chaos and screaming in my wake.

In the spirit of getting back out there I am plotting my return to being a single man on the scene. Sure money is tight, but hell, life is meant to be lived, not to be wasted watching Desperate Housewives (even though I do love that show).

So what's the plan? I guess starting small, maybe some dinner with mates, a drink in a bar after work here and there. Gatecrash a party or two if I'm brave/drunk enough. Then back to my good old clubbing self which I said goodbye to when I was 19, and then the sky is the limit...... Or more literally, my bank balance is the limit.....

OK I get it, I am 4 years older (maybe 2 years wiser) and I have to be responsible too. Well its something I care about, so I will have to try and find the time.

Signing off today I have just text my mate to get some dinner plans on the go, and organised 2 shopping trips with some good mates. Then maybe a trip up to my beloved London for some much needed hustle and bustle in the big city.

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Time to Say Goodbye

Since becoming single I have noticed that my mind wanders to people I have loved and lost. But with no one is it more apparent as it is with one guy, for the purpose of the blog let's call him Ace. For nearly 3 years my mind has drifted to him and I have had that moment, that time where I think about what might of been.

Today after work I met a good mate, a mate who has seen me through a lot of bad shit in my life. And as I was there eating some nibbles he bought for the occasion (sour cream and chive pringles) and chatting about his sex life (his facvourite subject after Doctor Who, and 80's tv), it came out that he has met a new fuck buddy. Sadly all it took was one quick description for me to realise this was the boy who had occupied my thoughts off and on for so long. Ace, my Ace, not mine anymore.

I wasn't angry, not even sad, just a bit bemused. I think in that moment I saw him clearly for the first time. I saw that when I chatted to him off and on that he would only text me or say hi on MSN, if I did first. He would tease me and talk about the good old days when he was lonely. When I suggested a drink or some food, he was always conveniently away, or working or otherwise indisposed. I accepted it, and in silence I ignored his obvious flaws.

I don't know, but I think it's a personality flaw with me. I let a person in my heart, and even after they trash the place I still leave a key under the mat in the hopes that they will find their way back in. Call it low self esteem or whatever, I get it, it's pathetic.

But then why do I let it go on? Simply put, I just don't want to say goodbye. Saying goodbye means closing doors, and moving on, something I know I am not good at. Until today that is.

Today after hearing my friend talk about his passionate new playmate, I decided it's time to be the bad guy and do the right thing. I came home, and I opened my MSN. I deleted him, I blocked him, i took him of Facebook, and deleted his number. I deleted his pictures off my computer, and I deleted his teasing messages and I took a breath to let out all the bad that had been festering inside without me ever really knowing.

I still allowed myself to be a bit sad, but not because I lost him. But because he had now lost me. I can say now this... with absolute certainty and a lack of ego. He does not deserve me.

I close today by saying goodbye. Goodbye to someone who almost was but in the end wasn't, the one who I was so close to being close with. I can't say I won't miss you, and I cant pretend I won't either. But as Rihanna once sang, "now it's time to go, curtains finally falling". I'm walking away, and I am getting on with my life. I hope you find out how to do the same.

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Confession is Good for the Soul

I don't know how the subject came up, but I was with a couple of work mates the other day and they ended up talking about all the slightly dodgy things they used to get up to at school and uni. You know the sort of thing that usually happens as a result of alcohol, hormones and sometimes just bloody audacity. Anyway one of the girls looks at me and she says she cant imagine me doing anything wrong, and that I seemed too "good". I know what she really meant was boring.

The truth is though that I tended to be just as bad as everyone else, but I was very good about keeping quiet about it. However in the spirit of confession here is a very short list of some of the more questionable things I did, and not that long ago, so I should know better.

1) Bunking off School

OK not a massive amount of naughtiness here, but then I was a little bit crafty. I used to tell my mother that I was going to be staying after school to study at the after hours programme the school was running, and I used to sign out of school citing a dentist appointment. Poor school never realised I had a dentists appointment on a weekly basis. Either that or they think I really neede a lot of work done.

2) Stole money from my Dad

Bit more vicious now. Me and my dad have a difficult relationship, but it was at it's worse when I was 16. I think he was beginning to see I was different, and I was beginning to see how much he hated the idea. My acts of rebellion were petty and they usually involved stealing from his wallet. In my defence he never noticed when I once nicked £80 out of there, which goes to show how much he had in there.

3) Never reporting an assault.

It happens when you are young and your gaydar is a little bit off, I was drunk and hit on a drunk straight boy. Drunk straight boy then broke a bottle and went for me :S. I wasn't hurt too badly, a couple of scratches mainly and the bouncers were on him like shit on Velcro in seconds. One very big and menacing looking Doorman said he had called the police and told me to just wait in the office bit. I didn't, I snuck out and went home. I did it because there was a small part of me that thought I deserved it. OK maybe not wrong in the traditional sense, but not right either.

4) Loosing my virginity on a one-night stand

That old chestnut sex. I was dating someone in uni and I psyched myself up a bit, knowing that any day now I would have sex for the first time. Problem is as it later turned out, he wasn't ready to be a "first time". So I did the typical, I drowned my sorrows in vodka and went home with the first man who showed interest. Turned out he was an insurance underwriter, and I left my watch there. It was stupid, and careless mostly because it ruined my relationship, and for a long time had me labled as "easy". It was also wrong because of just how pathetic I was, making sex so important in the first place. It still is now.....

5) Getting a former mates boyfriend into bed

Kind of self explanatory. I don't have the luxury of saying I was drunk this time. I knew what I was doing I did it anyway. Do I regret my decision, hell yes, would I do it again, hell no. Sometimes jut because you can have something, doesn't mean you should go out and take it, doesn't prove you are better, only shows you are a bigger jerk. I got a black eye for that and a serious dressing down, I think I deserved worse.

This is by no means all the stuff I could confess, I'm pretty sure that's only a fraction. But then I always get up every day and put on one sock at a time, I always try and do better next time, and never stopped trying to be as good a person as I could be. I don't always succeed, but that won't ever stop me trying.

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Doorknob to the Future

I'll be the first to admit, that while my house has been built, I hav'nt really allowed myself to get excited about it. Call it stoicism of you like, but when it comes to the big things I try not to allow myself to get to attached to them, probably because somewhere in the back of my head I think that someones going to take it away.

I have always dreamed of having a home of my own, of being independent and standing in my own two feet. It's that dream that led me to university, and subsequently to leave home a few years later, all so that I could be alone and live the way I wanted. After all kind of hard to pull a guy and bring them home when the parents sleep just across the hall, especially since most guys I pull end up being screamers ....... !

Today I had a simple chat with the project manager, was nothing major he just wanted me to go through some pictures and decide on the doorknobs I wanted. Nothing major at all really, compared to most of the process rather simple to be frank. But in that moment when I thought about whether I want the front door to be in brass or in black, I received a premonition.

I saw myself coming home from work and opening my own door and locking it behind me. I saw myself going up stairs to my bedroom and changing clothes, and going back down to my kitchen to make a cup of tea. I was in my kitchen again making a pasta bake while listening to some music on my iPhone. I saw myself settling down with a glass of wine watching something stupid on television, chatting
with my housemates (which I don't have yet) about nothing in particular. I even see myself coming home reeking of vodka in a cab after a night out, stumbling to e door, fumbling with keys, and trying to slip in without waking anyone up.

In that moment I allowed myself to feel the excitement I normally denied myself, I could see it so clearly in my mind. And now........ I can't wait.