Coping with Mistletoe. Deciding discos aren't for me.

Monday December 16^th.

Dog walked and swam as usual then after a swift visit to the Uni realised we aren’t in this week; all we have is just a couple of meetings. Laura sat with a smug grin on her face in the car as I explained this to her. She did have the good grace not to say, "I told you so." I could tell she was thinking it.

I contacted Mrs B, and explained the situation and asked if I could put a full week in at XXX & Y and then take the time off in lieu after the Christmas break. She thought it was a good idea. So the Lollster drove me round to the office and I spent the day wearing my Archivist’s hat.

The office is winding down for Christmas. They leave a skeleton crew on board [reminded me of the first Pirates of the Caribbean film the first time I heard the expression] and the rest of us have a fortnight, starting this coming Friday arvo. So, with time served I won’t be needed on any Wednesdays in January. Rah, rah, rah. This makes house sitting so less complicated.

I met Laura for lunch and we wandered round the new market hall on the Moor. It is very good. It beats the old one which was getting a bit run down, to be honest.

Christopher was pleased to see me and was all set to bring in the extra mincemeat tomorrow. I am going to make a mountain of mince pies with it. He was full of excitement about the “Staff Do”. This year we are going to see “Oliver” at the Crucible Theatre on Wednesday night. There will probably be a breakaway excursion to a night club as well. There has been after every “Do” so far. The younger ones go there, I don’t know where the boring old farts go; home probably. This year whatever we decide I will not end up snogging a complete stranger with mistletoe as I will have Laura with me. I sort of think that may have been why Christopher was so excited because when I mentioned I was bringing Laura his face fell! No doubt someone told him about the effect of alcohol and mistletoe on Ms Jay and he put two and two together to get the chance of a snog! Poor boy.

I was picked up by the Lollster after work, who zoomed us straight off to Dominic’s. This was a complete surprise. He had closed the restaurant for the night and had cooked a meal for his staff. He calls it his ‘Saturnalia Thank You’. I hadn’t realised he employed so many people. There must have been thirty of us in the place.

I had meat balls and spaghetti, Laura had the lasagne. If her lasagne was as tasty as my meatballs she’ll have had a treat. Dominic gave a little speech before the desserts where he thanked various people for the contributions throughout the year. Praise fell heavily on Luca who is the main chef, and quite rightly, he is a wizard in that kitchen. He also singled out Carmina who works as FoH and the manager of the place. [Dominic’s wife] I got a brief mention for introducing him to a whole selection of wines he had never even heard of before, never mind considered. [That was nice of him.]

They have a sweepstake on tips during the year. Micky won having been given the highest amount and Lollster [who only started in September] came third! Dom is of the opinion that Micky will lose the title next year if she keeps it up. The prize? A week’s stay with Dom’s family back in Italy; to be taken during the summer sometime. That is pretty neat, isn’t it? They get told now so they can book really cheap flights down to Brindisi – Salento Airport. Easy Jet fly there regularly and are so cheap it’s laughable. If Laura wins next year we could have a holiday in the instep of the boot!

We rolled back home at about 9pm which gave me plenty of time to have a long play with Callie, who was looking so doleful and then to take her on the complete Hill Top Wood / Onesacre circuit before bedtime.

Two messages from Feli were waiting for us when we got back. On the first she was having a whale of a time in Lancaster. On the second she reminded me of the meeting with our supervisor on Tuesday morning. Erm… Thanks for that! She is staying with Michael for a few days longer, before coming back to Sheffield, gathering up her gear and flying down to Bordeaux to have a family Christmas au bord de la mer. Bassin d’arcachon.

Tuesday December 17^th

Dog walk and swim and then I went into the meeting which Felice should have been to! I was there at 8.30. What the hell was going on? She had e-mailed me a who list of things to mention and a crib sheet of answers if I got asked questions. It lasted 25 minutes and seemed a complete waste of time, I think it was just a box ticking exercise. No wonder she passed the buck to me! I am seriously thinking of killing her when I see her next.

I was at XXX & Y less than five minutes when a flustered accountant appeared in Archives with a large box filled with jars of mincemeat. He was even more flustered when I gave him my keys and asked him if he could take them to my car for me. Well… It looked heavy.

He came back in ten minutes in a panic saying he couldn’t find it. The bloody drongo had been looking for my old Picanto! I went outside with him and showed him my new pride and joy. The Quokka. He couldn’t see why I had chosen to give it a name. He thought it was a typical female thing to do and rather silly. So I told him he had just blown his chance of a ride in it. I think he wasn’t expecting that kind of reply and began stuttering and apology. So I promised him a trip over to the top of Wyming Brook in it at lunchtime.

What a bloody stupid thing to suggest. He was at the door to Archives almost before lunch break had started. I grabbed my coat and bag and wandered out to the car. He was quite impressed by the inside of the car and even more impressed by the deal I’d bagged from Monty’s. He couldn’t believe how little I had paid. At Wyming Brook it seemed silly to just turn around so I said should we have a stroll to look at the reservoirs? He didn’t even know there was a reservoir just round the corner. I had a sandwich in my bag and started munching on it as we walked. He hadn’t thought to bring any of his lunch, of course, I gave him the second half of my chicken salad sanger. I was looking forward to that, but I had another full round in the office so I wasn’t bothered too much.

The reservoirs are just a spit around the corner from the car park. They are collective called the Redmires Reservoirs, and there are three of them. It takes a few minutes walking and the weather was pretty nice so we just strolled on eating my lunch. We stopped to look at the views and Christopher said, “I have brought something with me…” He fumbled in his coat pocket and brought out a sprig of mistletoe!

I just turned and started walking back to the car. He rushed to catch up with me and started to tell me how much he had liked me and he was sure if I got to know him properly I’d see he was a really nice guy and he knew he had blown it big time at the concerts. A kiss under the mistletoe would show I had forgiven him. He wittered on like this all the way back to the car. 

What a bloody drongo!

I just couldn’t believe it. The guy is a complete numbskull! As if I was going to do anything of the sort. I honestly don’t think he has a clue, to be frank.

I made him sit in the back seat before we drove off. I berated him once he was inside and continued to give him total aggravation of the ear-hole all the way back to the Office. I won’t put down here what I told him but I think at the end of the drive he’d got the picture.

I think I was shocked more than anything. I also knew that if he had tried anything I would be able to deal with him because my old University Self Defence for women course is still fresh in my mind, even after all the time that has passed. [OK, I had shown Laura a lot of the moves and hold breaks when she moved in with me, just for my own piece of mind really.] I felt relieved he hadn’t tried to grab me or anything because I would have had to hurt him and probably even left him up at Wyming Brook.

I had calmed down at the work's car park and was able to explain that I was in a serious and committed relationship with Laura and that I had decided men weren’t worth the hassle any more. I would not mention the incident with anyone but if he tried a stunt like that again I would cry “Sexual Harassment” so loud they would hear it in America! If he couldn’t manage to be a friendly face at work then he had better stop coming down to Archives to see me. I would forget it had happened and would treat him in that way if he could do the same.

He agreed. I hope I haven’t over-reacted. I wasn’t really sure what to do for the best. I mean you can never tell what a guy’s reaction will be when you don’t respond in the way they had hoped.

Wednesday December 18^th.

We both walked Callie this morning and then zoomed off to swim as usual. I told Laura about the mistletoe incident and she was amused by the fact that Christopher could be such a pillock. I think socially inept may be a better description. I mean he is in his late twenties, has no girlfriend and lives with his Mum & Dad still. It sort of sounds like the archetypal  male loser to me.

I was worried I was making a mountain out of a molehill but Laura, quite rightly, said that if I had done anything more about it; told my line manager or his, for example, that might have been mountain building. She thought what I had done was reasonable and proportionate and I shouldn’t worry. She does have a wise head on young shoulders.

I needn’t have fretted at all. Work was just as normal. No incidents or hassle from the man in accounts. I don’t really know what I was expecting to happen but nothing did. Maybe it will be water under the bridge.

I was kept busy during the day by a last minute request for relevant case law for a trial that had been brought forward, so the whole of ARR hunkered down and did a mass search together. It was the first time we have done that for years. The last time I can remember was 2011! At 4.15 we had a huge wodge of paper ready to go upstairs when we got a note down telling us the panic was over, the date had been mis-transcribed, the 20th of the 12th should have been the 12^th of the 1^st! It was really quite fun, though, all of us searching for the same things; sharing what we’d found and sparking ideas from each other.

The evening “Do” at the Crucible was brilliant. I have loved the film version of Oliver for as long as I can remember. Despite the way Dickens has Nancy murdered by Bill Sykes. That made me cry when I first watched the film. The dance routines to accompany the songs are just stupendous. Obviously we weren’t expecting film standard set pieces from a theatre company BUT they were very very good even so. The Dodger was brilliant, so was Fagin. I think it is safe to say that everyone who went thoroughly enjoyed their evening. Christopher made no effort to speak to me, or catch my eye or anything. I think he thought I might have killed him - he would have been right! LOL

Afterwards the younger crowd went off to a nearby night club. As it was before 11pm the ladies got in for free. Laura and I went along to be sociable but it was every bit as horrendous as I has suspected. The music was too loud to be able to have anything like a conversation and to call it music was definitely a misnomer! I yelled at her, after a few minutes, “Are you OK with this?”

She replied, “No, not really.”

“Shall we go?”

She nodded, so we left. I know I am an old stick in the mud but I can’t see the enjoyment of have your ears pounded by such a cacophony in the pretence of having fun. It would have been nice to have had a dance but, in the twenty minutes we were in there, the “Music” was abysmal; it was way too loud and the place was far too full. I must be getting old. It would have been nice to have danced to the sound of something I, at least, could recognise!

We strolled through the town, arm in arm, and looked at the Christmas lights – they are really pretty this year. I suppose they always have been. At the top of Fargate we stopped and had a major snog, surrounded by a fair number of people who were on their way to who knows where. They seemed to find nothing unusual about two women kissing each other in the middle of the street. One wag shouted, “Get a room!” As he passed, at which we broke off and laughed. The car was parked behind the City Hall so we continued on our way through the mass of night time revellers, dressed in very little, heading to more drinking or dancing spots to celebrate their Christmases. A part of me was thinking, “Wouldn’t it be nice to be part of these crowds off to their parties and discos and the like?” while a second part was thinking, “Thank god I am not a part of all this. I can stand and watch as a detached observer, without having to get involved.”

In the car, “Well, Ms Jay. Shall we hire a room? Or... should we go back to the one we've got and use that?”

“I think, Ms Thomas, using the one we have is a brilliant idea. Let’s do it.”

We didn’t use the room. We stayed in the lounge, in front of the wood burner, and used the sofa, the floor, the armchair, the window sill, the footstool, the stair way.

Thursday December 19^th.

One day to go before the Holidays begin. We walked Callie and swam as usual. Before I left for work I started on making some mince pies with Mr Mistletoe’s Mum’s mincemeat. Laura said she’d finish them off during the morning.

At work I got a call from Mum saying she was at mine, helping Loll with the mince pies and did I fancy lunch? Did I? Mum and Laura were waiting in the car park in Mum’s car and we drove off to the pub out at Ringinglow for a smackerel. Mum had baked a lot of mince pies in our oven too and was going to collect them after lunch when she had dropped Laura off. Loll said we now had 36 pies waiting to go up to Cumbria and still had two jars of mincemeat left. It will keep pretty well, so there is no need to go mad and bake any more.

Mum asked if we’d thought about getting a second car, one for Laura, because when I was using my Kia it meant Laura was stuck at home or reliant on public transport. We have discussed this before and always arrived at the conclusion that it would really be a bit of an unnecessary expense.

Mum seemed disappointed so I asked her what her ulterior motive was. She accused me of being a cynical, untrusting baggage and then told me that Mrs Potts, in her village was having to give up her car on medical orders (she is 84!) and she was looking for a buyer. She had asked the women at her WI meeting on Monday first and was going to put adverts in The Star after Christmas.

Mrs Potts car is a Nissan, on a 57 plate. She has had it from new and it has done just under 10 thousand miles. It is a bright red, 1.2, 3 door, with air con. She will be advertising it for £3K. I could see Laura’s interest was piqued by the idea. According to Mum it does around 55 miles to the gallon and has never been driven at over 60 miles an hour in its life!

After we had scoffed (homemade meat and potato pie for me) and I was dropped off at work, the pair of them went over to Holmesfield to look at Mrs Potts car. I could tell Laura was quite interested in the idea and it does sound like a bargain.  I got a call at work from Mum and Laura who were both quite excited and giggly about the car. Laura had been for a drive in it. She thinks it is pretty nippy.  It is so clean inside, it is like is has never been used. The boot space is a bit small, smaller even than my Picanto was, but she thinks there would be room in the back for Callie.

I told her if she wanted it to go for it. She was not going to decide there and then but would wait until I came home and we’d discuss it. I spent some of the rest of the arvo researching insurance for a 2007 plated Nissan Micra and found it would be cheaper to insure it under my name as part of a multicar deal with my Cee’d (with Laura as the only named driver) rather than try to insure it under Laura’s name in her own right.

The talk at home was all about costs and running it. She has some money saved up and her tips have made a fair amount in just four months. She sat down and did a spread sheet of all the expenditure involved in its purchase and then a second cost benefit analysis of ownership of a second vehicle. The figures, in her mind, just don’t add up. If we hadn’t been committed to at least another 2 years at Uni for me and 1 year for her after the summer, getting a second vehicle might prove necessary. As it stands, we both travel to the same place every day, we go out together virtually all the time too. Nothing in our current lifestyle means we actually NEED the expense of owning and running a second car. So she phoned Mrs Potts to tell her the news. She also said she should ask for £3,500 for the car in the paper but be prepared to accept £3K. She then phoned my Mum and they had a chat about cars and Christmas and Me and my Dad!

After a light meal (lunch was pretty large) I drove Laura down to the restaurant for the last time until January and (back at home) made a call to Phil & Jane to let them know where I’d be over the holiday. I tried Feli’s number but there was no reply. I phoned Bordeaux and her Mama told me she was driving down as we spoke. She was going to stay at a Formula One near Calais overnight and continue on tomorrow. Why had she not phoned before she set off? [Checking the voice mail on my mobile later, I discovered she had. But not to the home phone as she thought we may have gone to Dad’s already and she didn’t know his number!]

I called the Aged Parent who was as excited as a schoolboy about going home for Christmas. It is weird to hear him say that. I always think that England is his home, but obviously deep in his heart he is still a good old Okker boy! He was full of how Feli had been staying with Michael for a few days and how they seemed to have hit it off really well. [That was all I needed to hear!]

XXX & Y close at lunchtime on Friday so I told him we’d be up pronto ballero. Laura was dropping me off in the morning and then picking me up at 1, so that we could zoom straight off without any of the tedious mucking about in hyperspace that is packing.

I picked Loll up at 11.15 and she was bead beat. Another Christmas “do” had filled the place out. All of the diners were from just one company. That was a first for this season. It had meant that the atmosphere was a bit more raucous and unruly than usual. It also meant the diners were much less inhibited. One of them had actually stroked Laura’s bum as she served his meal! She told Dominic who went up to the guy in question and very quietly told him that if he touched one of his staff again in an inappropriate manner he would be calling the police! Good old Dom. Although, this is not the first time this has happened to Laura in only four months!

I thought she would be shaken by what had happened but she was quite sanguine. Plus the guy had the grace to apologise to her when she came to clear the main course away, which she thought was good and on leaving he had slipped her two twenty notes as a tip! I joked and said if she was going to start charging for a quick feel how much could I have for 20P?

She slapped me. Then kissed me. Then cried. Sometimes I am a complete fucking idiot.