How the Badger met the Clopper Part 3

A while ago I did a poll asking what you would like to know. The winning entry was the Badger (me) meeting the Clopper (the wife ska angelhands).

So settle down with a good mug of tea, adjust your eye wear and prepare yourself for an epic adventure involving drugs, debauchery, mysticism and more loose ends than a wall of shelves put up by stegzy….Now read on.

Part 3. Dawn


So there I am with Clair in Lennon’s Bar.

“We need to talk” she said, “This is all a little too much for me. The relationship and that. I think we’ve become too close and I’m not ready so I think we should cool it off”

I’d heard that many times before from other ex and potential girlfriends. It wasn’t that I piled it on thick like Guy did, nor was I ever clingy. I guess I was just young and inexperienced. Curiously this revelation didn’t bother me. Not in the slightest. I agreed, smiled, she got up and left. I left shortly after. Totally not bothered.

Keen to stay on a roll, I put an ad in the Liverpool Echo’s Lonely hearts column with in days I’d received a bite. Her name was Dawn. Tall, red hair, lovely smile, button nose and, as I found out later, a hell of a lot of baggage. The episode of Dawn is another story that needs to be told separately I feel. But to cut a long story short Dawn and I flourished, but, for reasons I shall not go into here, I soon felt claustrophobic.

Almost a year had passed. It was now 1997, by this time I had a proper full time job in the Health & Safety Executive in Bootle, living comfortably and well. Thing was the claustrophobia. Dawn was intense, really intense. I sought escape by visiting my pals, rekindling lost friendships and staying out late. That was when I bumped into Ray again. He had started a course at the Paul McCartney Fame School aka the world famous Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts and was keen to show off his new found status. One night he got me into the student union bar with him. Of course Ray liked to focus attention on new people rather than people he’d always known and I was soon left on my own while he shmoozed. I let my irritation known to Ray and said I was going home. Guiltily he suggested I visited Clair, who now lived on Huskisson Street, not far away from the Institute and he gave me directions.1. This I did.

Clair was pleased to see me. We rekindled our friendship and I visited her regularly. We would chat, talk like we used to about all weird things and have a laugh. I visited for advice on all things personal and what not. It was even Clair that I visited after I met Teana in the pub. Dawn was getting more and more intense. Suffocatingly so. The frequency of my visits to Clair increased. Of course Clair and I got closer and closer until one night we were back in bed together doing that funky thang. Something that became as regular as my visits. Dawn still in my flat. Dawn still my “official” girlfriend. Dawn….constantly in my hair. Dawn, living unemployed, off my wage draining me of money but I was too soft to tell her I’d had enough.

Then something happened. A ticket out of my situation. From unexpected quarters.

To Be Continued

1 Ray later implied that he knew things would turn out the way they did and that his suggestion was premeditated. This is, of course, utter bollocks and Ray is a complete wanker of the first order.

Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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