When I was eighteen I started seeing a girl called Pauline McNicol. She was very lovely. Her dad was an Irish bricklayer, and she’d inherited nearly black hair and big, beautiful, dark Irish eyes. And her parents both liked me, which was unusual. So did her three kid sisters. It was a poor but happy household, and I felt comfortable there.
A week into our liaison, she asked me:
‘Do you mind if I carry on going to The Crystal on Sundays?’
The Crystal was a popular nightclub in the area. I told her that of course I didn’t. I’d only known her for a week, and I didn’t own her anyway. I wasn’t sure why she was asking. She looked at me very sweetly, kissed me and said:
‘Thanks. You’re a good ’un.’
Three weeks later – on Boxing Day, for heaven’s sake - she finished with me. She told me that I was ‘just too nice.’ She cited the case of The Crystal as an example. Apparently, she would have preferred it if I’d been more domineering. Seems they were the sort of men she liked. I took her home and never saw her again. I still think about her every Christmas, though.
I tried being more domineering with other women, but that didn’t work either. I got yelled at for it. Life can be a complicated creature sometimes.
4 comments:
I never know what to think when you make mention of "life."
Er...
I'll e-mail you. Seems we cross-commented, by the way.
Women who like the "bad boys" are more trouble than they're worth and vice-versa. I went through my phase of only liking men who were emotionally unavailable or jerks, but came to my sensed (I think, thank the goddess) that kindness is far more important and valuable in a man than being a "lout" as my mother used to say. You remind me so much of "Tom Jones" the literary character, not the "What's new Pussycat" singer, Jeff ;)
Oddly enough, Wendy, it seemed completely out of character with Pauline; and I heard a few years ago that she'd settled, had a tribe of kids and become a regular dame.
Wasn't Tom Jones a bit naughty?!
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