Shallow & Narrow & Short (1998)

1998 was an incredibly horrible, nasty twat of a year. 

And most of it was my own fault.

I'm still not sure what I was playing at.

I hated my job, I hated my life and it felt like I was in the middle of a slow motion motorway pile-up. I could see the shit flying towards me but I couldn't get out of the way. I don't know if I wanted to. 

I managed to piss off my closest friends and my family - I even got a stern telling off from the Police. And in the World Cup, England only made it to the second round before losing on penalties (again).

Happy fucking days.   

I used to get a lift with a bloke from  work - and that was OK. Andy (not his real name) was funny and we'd gossip about everybody else we worked with. It was a good way to let off steam at the end of each day, and it made me think it wasn't just me who hated my job. 

Andy was a few years older than me, and he was married with a couple of kids. We didn't socialise outside of work, and that was fine - until his wife, Tina (again - not her real name) decided to play matchmaker.

I think Tina felt a bit sorry for me. Maybe she thought I needed a woman in my life - somebody to cheer me up and get me out of the house. She was probably right and I'm absolutely sure she meant well. Unfortunately, nobody really knew just how pathetic and emotionally immature I was. I didn't know how to be a boy-friend.

I was nearly 25 and I'd never been in a relationship - not really. I'd kind of had a couple of girlfriends in my final year at University but it was always the result of drunken snogging. I'd also had an intense, flirty but oddly non-sexual romance with a woman I'd met at work. That had been the result of alcohol induced snogging too.

I assumed women would instantly regret getting within ten yards of me as soon as they'd sobered up, so I'd start acting like a prick. I felt like I had to push people away before they had the chance to do that to me. Daft, isn't it? But it made perfect sense to me. At home I'd only ever seen broken or dysfunctional relationships so I didn't really know how to do any of this stuff.

Anyway; Tina had a friend called Julia (another name changed, you know the drill). Julia was also a few years older than me, but still lived at home with her Mum. This was one of the few things Julia and I had in common. 

I wasn't sure about any of this. Andy started telling me about Julia on the way to work, and how she'd been sooooooooo unlucky in love. Julia had told Tina various horror stories about blokes constantly hitting on her at work as well as some terrible dates she'd been on (one included Julia faking an emergency phone call from Tina just so she could get away from a 'horrible loser' in Pizza Hut). Tina had been 'talking me up' to Julia. I'd been described as a 'nice bloke' with a 'good sense of humour' - which sounds like code for 'not very good looking but relatively harmless'. 

Andy and Tina arranged for us all to go to the cinema and then out for a meal. This was just as Titanic was being released - and I had no intention or desire to see it. Unfortunately, Tina thought it would be a perfect date movie; a big, weepy romance. This was a moment when I could have said 'no'. I could have made some excuse but I didn't. It's not like I had a packed social calendar. Andy and Tina were decent people so maybe Julia would be OK too. Maybe she was thinking exactly the same thing about me.

Going to the pictures is a terrible idea for a first date. For one thing, it's impossible to talk during a film. And even if the movie is terrible, too long and too soppy - it's probably a mistake to say that. What if your date loves the film and you hate it? Should you pretend to like it? I felt as if I didn't have very much going for me, so disagreeing with my date  was probably a bad idea.

After the film, Tina said she was starting to get a migraine and asked Andy to take her home. I thought this meant the evening was over, but Andy and Tina had a different idea - they said Julia and I should still go for something to eat. I think we both knew we'd been set up and we suddenly had to speak to each other without any normal people acting as a buffer zone... 

Wait, what?

I was always hopeless at small-talk, chit-chat, gossip, bullshit or banter. I was interested in nerdy stuff like ancient TV shows and old movies. Did Julia want to hear about the different versions of The Wicker Man or my favourite 1970s Doctor Who story?

In the end, Julia took the lead. She'd hated just about every minute of Titanic and didn't hold back; "as if a woman like Kate Winslet would fall for a weedy little boy like DiCaprio..." It was a huge relief. I felt safe to air my misgivings.

Julia had a very loud laugh. I thought it might be a sign she was nervous, because she'd suddenly emit sharp screeches whenever anybody said anything slightly amusing. I tried not to look shocked or scared.

Julia worked as a nurse at a Dental surgery but she never said much about that. I asked her if work was fun or interesting and she'd be quite vague about it. She did tell me about her 'nightmare' older sister and how she enjoyed breaking up other people's marriages. 

I tried to make her laugh with stories about some of the crappy adverts I'd made for local radio stations. 

Did she find me funny? The loud, screechy laugh put in a few appearances. Was that a good sign? Or did she find me creepy and it really was just a big nervous giggle?

At the end of the evening as we were saying goodnight, Julia said Tina had told her that I'd asked for her phone number. I hadn't - but I also knew Tina was doing her best to make something happen. 

"I might have done, maybe..." is what I said and that was enough to make Julia's manner change abruptly. There was no nervous laughter; her eyes narrowed and she barked at me;

"DID YOU OR DIDN'T YOU?"

This was another moment when I could have backed out. I probably should have quietly and politely said 'no'. I really didn't like the way she spoke to me. Instead I lied and mumbled a 'yes' and Julia handed me a card with her name and phone number on it.

 

"Call me on Tuesday after Seven," she said. 

And that was it. Date over.

What the hell had just happened? 

Did that mean she wanted to see me again?

 

Did I want to see her again?

I did call Julia - on Tuesday, after seven. I found it so much easier to talk on the phone. I was more relaxed but Julia still did the loud screechy laugh thing.

 

We started going out two or three times a week. She was very clear as to when we could see each other - once during the week (Wednesday evenings) and then two dates every weekend. 

For our midweek dates I sometimes met Julia straight after work. I thought it might be quite sexy to see her in her nurses' uniform, but any hope of that was dashed with one waft of those overpowering, antiseptic, dental smells.

Because we both still lived with our parents, we started spending a lot of time in hotels. And that was nice - it wasn't something I'd ever done before. We'd sometimes pretend to be newlyweds and book a honeymoon suite for a Friday or Saturday night.

We also started going to the cinema every Sunday afternoon. Did we assume we both wanted to go to the cinema because that's where we'd gone on our first date? I don't know. I do love going to the pictures but only if there's something I actually want to see. And this became a bit of a problem. We ended up sitting through some absolute crap - and Julia didn't seem to care. For her, the date was the important thing but I soon got sick of watching shite. There were some great films released in early 1998 - Jackie Brown, The Big Lebowski, As Good As It Gets... all films I'd have loved to have seen - but we were in 'date mode' so Julia thought we should see Good Will Hunting and The Wedding Singer...

I wanted to see the latest Tarantino movie but Julia opted for Adam Sandler. And I told myself that was fine! It was a compromise! Isn't that what relationships are all about? So why did I feel like an idiot? Julia always got to pick the film. Was I supposed to watch any old crap if it meant I got to spend more time holding hands with my 'girlfriend'?

It wasn't just films. As soon as I saw Julia's music collection I knew I had a problem. For one thing, she didn't have many tapes or CDs; 20 at the most. Maybe music wasn't that important to her - but the stuff she did have was shite. Simply Red. The Lighthouse Family. Boyzone. B*witched.

For fuck's sake. 

At that time I had a fairly outrageous CD collection. I was addicted to spending money on new music and I also managed to get quite a haul of free promo CDs from work. I must have had about 500 albums and God knows how many singles. I didn't really have anything in my life except for movies and music, so they were hugely important to me. Could I share my life with somebody who liked Simply Red? I told myself I was being silly, that nobody else would care. My years of being single had made me petty and ridiculous.

Julia and I only had one CD in common - 'So' by Peter Gabriel. It's a classic album - maybe Julia did have some good taste after all! But then she said she'd only ever played it once. She'd liked 'Sledgehammer' when it was in the charts so she'd bought the album. She thought all the other songs were horrible and dull. Bloody hell. 

I started making mix-tapes for Julia. This was another terrible idea. I thought I was being nice, trying to share some great songs, hoping she'd like some of them, hoping we'd find some common ground... Maybe she'd make a tape for me!

Julia didn't think much of my taste in music. She thought David Bowie was weird, Talking Heads were tuneless and Bjork was unlistenable. She also thought I was sending her not-so-subtle messages with some of the lyrics; she pulled out the "are we going to live together, lovers over all?" line from 'Deep & Wide & Tall' by Aztec Camera and asked if I was serious. This whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing was a mine-field.

Julia never did make a tape for me.

So there it was; I was a movie snob and a music snob. I kept quiet. I didn't want to argue. I started listening to Simply Red and The Lighthouse Family - could I train myself to like them? No. Definitely not.

What if I didn't have anything in common with Julia? We couldn't spend so much time together if we didn't like at least a few of the same things? Fucking hell. Julia liked Star Trek so I hid my Doctor Who videos on the few occasions Julia came round to my Mam's house.

I was also - I thought - a very old-fashioned boy. I offered to pay for everything - cinema tickets, popcorn, meals, hotel rooms... There was none of this modern 'splitting the bill down the middle' with Julia. I thought she liked my slightly antiquated manners; holding doors open, pulling chairs out and taking care of all the bills.

Was I happy? Was I having fun? I don't know. I think my overwhelming feeling was one of relief - I was dating another human being and it seemed to be going OK. 

Maybe I was 'normal', after all.

Members of my family weren't so keen. They expressed concern about how much time I was spending with Julia and how much money. They thought Julia was 'too old, too thin and too bossy' for me. 

Julia didn't like my family, either - she thought I gave them too much money for my 'keep' and said I let them tell me what to do. 

If they were both right then I really was completely fucked. 

On the way to work Andy would sometimes make comments - he'd tell me that Julia seemed very 'smitten' but he was also concerned about me paying for everything.

Was I some kind of sexist dinosaur? Did Julia think I was awful because I wouldn't let her pay for anything? Dammit.

I struggled to communicate. I thought I was starting to have feelings for Julia - but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to say 'I love you' too soon in case it sounded silly. How soon was too soon? Did I love her? Was I supposed to say it first or wait for her? We'd only known each other a few weeks. I did tell her I thought I might be 'falling' for her and she said she felt the same way. 

Was this going to work out? Weeeeeeeeell....

One Sunday morning we were talking about Julia's sister - Cheryl (name changed). Cheryl had a boyfriend (Trevor, again, not his real name) living with her, and they were always talking about their wedding plans. Julia was quite acidic about it. Trevor had only just finished divorcing his first wife and seemed to be in a hurry to make the same mistake all over again.

Cheryl didn't like me. I was too young. I wasn't 'manly' enough compared to 'her' Trevor. Trevor kept several large dogs, always carried Cheryl's shopping bags and he was even planning to have his vasectomy reversed, just to make Cheryl happy. What a man!

Later on, I'd find out that Julia had briefly dated Trevor and that's how Cheryl had first met him. 

This all sounded incredibly tangled and unpleasant - and I never did find out if Julia had been aware of Trevor's wife when she'd been going out with him.

And Cheryl! Who dates their sister's ex-boyfriend? And then moves him into the family home? I've always wondered if Julia went to the wedding. She might have ended up as a bridesmaid or matron of honour for her ex-boyfriend and her sister. Shit. Adult relationships are messed up.

I'd never been fussed about the whole wedding palaver - probably because I'd seen my parents divorce in extreme close up. It made the idea of a big expensive party seem ridiculous. Why throw all that money away on dresses and flowers when you'd just end up in a bitter court case a few years down the line?

I pointed out that Julia must be very different to her sister, because she didn't seem bothered about weddings. Julia asked me what I meant by this - and an older, wiser version of me might have spotted the warning signs.

"What makes you think I don't like weddings?" It sounded like a serious and leading question. I spluttered out a pathetic response - "I don't know, I've never really thought about it. Do you think you'll ever get married?"

At this point, I wasn't aware that Julia had been in a very serious, long-term relationship and it had ended about a year before Andy and Tina decided to play matchmaker. Julia had been engaged for a couple of years and she'd even bought a house with a bloke (not Trevor - at least I don't think it was). It had all fallen apart. I don't know why.

Did she think I knew about that? Did she think I was being mean or teasing her by talking about weddings? Had I planted my foot firmly into an enormous bucket of shite?

Over the next couple of weeks, Julia's attitude towards me seemed to change. 

She told me about a bloke who was pestering her at work. At first, she said he was creepy - but then it seemed like she was quite flattered and found him quite funny and charming. She'd giggle about some of the 'inappropriate' things he'd say. Was she expecting me to kick off? Was she trying to make me jealous?

Julia also told Andy and Tina that I'd gotten too serious, too quickly. She told them she 'needed some space' because I was 'stifling' her by 'expecting three dates every single week.' 

Julia also said I'd proposed to her - and that was news to me. I'd rather clumsily asked if she could ever see herself getting married - had she taken that as a proposal?

Fuck, I was new to this.

Julia became very cold. She suggested we should just 'be' for a while. I didn't know what that meant but I thought it probably wasn't good. I don't know exactly what Julia had said to Tina but Andy said I was better off out of it.

I started analysing every single date. Julia always got to choose the films, the restaurants, the hotels... And had she always ordered the most expensive things on the menu? Was Andy right? Was my family right? Julia had used my bank card to book a holiday.

Had she been making a fool of me?

I didn't want to think that, but maybe I needed to.

Maybe it would make things easier if I hated her. Is this how grown-ups deal with heartbreak? Turn up the hate?

My only real experience of a break up was watching my parents get divorced. In the months and years after their split they seemed determined to say and do so many crappy things... It was as if they both needed to be sure they really did hate each other so they'd never ever be tempted to get back together.

I became a total arse. I'd get drunk and call Julia. She stopped answering so I'd leave messages on her answering machine. Being drunk isn't an excuse - I knew what I was doing.

I didn't want to be hanging around like some lost, lovesick puppy, hoping for her to come back... I needed it to be well and truly over. I tried to be a bastard. I don't think I convinced anybody, but Julia did call the Police and they told me to stop leaving messages. And honestly, that was actually really helpful.

Once the outside world started to notice what a dick I was being I had to stop. 

Everybody thought I was taking 'rejection' very badly. I probably was. Maybe I was also trying to upset Julia as much as she'd upset me. I felt like I'd been made a fool of.

I also think I liked the idea of being in a relationship, of doing regular, couple-y things far more than I actually enjoyed spending time with Julia.

My folks weren't concerned about me - they were just ashamed. Fancy being spoken to by the Police! And all because of a 'silly, skinny old tart!'

 One thing was for certain. I had to stop getting a lift to work with Andy. I'd made everything horrible and awkward. It felt like I had to go back to all the things I was comfortable with; listening to music I liked on  endless bus trips to and from work - and only going to the cinema when there was something I actually wanted to see. 

I also felt as if I had to punish myself for being so stupid. Of course I shouldn't be in a relationship! I'd managed to fake being a normal bloke for a couple of months - and it was exhausting. I'd tried to be a bland, agreeable human being and it hadn't worked. 

I don't know if the experience taught me anything - apart from the fact that I still had a lot of growing up to do.

And obviously; don't date the friends of your friends.