There’s something I haven’t told you – Pedro and I are yet to have our first argument.
Of course there have been times when I have been a bit annoyed at him. When he leaves the toilet seat up at mine, for example. Or when he says he’ll arrive at mine at a certain time, but usually hasn’t even set off by then. Or when I’m a bit hungry and we’re about to go out and he’s taking ages in the shower. Yes I know – there’s nothing is there?!
Oh alright, I’m never really annoyed at him. He’s a very easy going person, and is far too nice to ever be annoyed at – an annoying trait in itself perhaps?!
There was once when I was really very cross. We had planned to go away for the weekend (our first holiday) with some friends for a boozy time in Bridlington. I was driving, so came straight from work to his to pick him up. It was a lovely sunny day, and I was really looking forward to getting away from it all and having a lovely time by the seaside. I had worked out timings so that we would arrive with plenty of time for me to have a shower and get ready for the meal out with all our friends. Now, I am not someone who takes a long time to get ready for a night out. If pushed, I can go from 0 – out the door in under 15 minutes. But this weekend is an annual tradition – NODA weekend. This is where all the amateur dramatic groups in the North meet once a year to take part in workshops, watch concerts, network, and have a lovely drink. The other LIDOS ladies are absolutely stunning. And this weekend is considered very much a chance to see and be seen – so the LIDOS ladies look their very best. I was feeling the pressure to perform – I wanted to have plenty of time to ensure I was looking and feeling good. So when I got to Pedro’s I knew I wouldn’t be waiting long.
Half an hour passed. I was starting to need the loo, and due to Pedro having to arrange cat-care for Whiskeroo, I did not have a key to get into Pedro’s house. My good mood was starting to evaporate.
An hour passed. By this point I so desperate I was almost making whining noises, like a small dog (ok, I was making them). Pedro had been unavoidably held up, and I had got to bursting point.
An hour and 15 minutes – it was no good. I couldn’t hold on any longer. I got out of my car (and experienced that weird leg thing when you’ve been sat in the same position for ages and you walk funny for a few steps), and approached one of Pedro’s neighbour’s houses. I knocked gently on the door, fixing my face into what I hoped was a friendly smile in an effort to convince the house holder I was not a mad axe murderer. I imagine that my smile was very forced, and the fact I was jigging up and down on the spot in an effort to relieve the pressure of my very full bladder probably didn’t help the harmless image I was trying to put across. An elderly gentleman opened the door. I explained the situation in a slightly-too-high-pitched voice. Without speaking he held the door open for me and led me to the bathroom. The relief was IMMENSE. After leaving the bathroom, I met elderly-man’s wife, who chatted awkwardly as I left their house. Elderly man saw me to the door, and still didn’t speak. To say it was an awkward moment is a huge understatement.
An hour and a half – Pedro arrived back. Despite my no longer needing a wee I was still cross at the lack of time I would have to get ready. We drove for a while with me in stony silence. Pedro was very apologetic, and clearly felt awful about it, which only made me feel worse for making him feel guilty! Once we arrived in Brid, and I had a very quick change and freshen up, and Pedro had plied me with gin and tonics, I had forgiven him.
An anti-climax right? See what I mean?!
What’s been your worst ever argument?