Late Night Fights and Gropes

I spent six hours arguing with husband last night, we finally fell asleep at 5am ( I won the argument), with the knowledge that we had to get up at 9am to drive home to Glasgow…oh fucking JOY of marriage!

Here’s what happened, last night after a good gig at Jongleurs, husband went to the bar to collect a bottle of wine, I put on my jacket and went out to thank management. The place was heaving with about 400 people dancing about and vomiting. I walked back to acts room and waited at the door for him to come back, he seemed to be taking ages so I just walked outside and there he was stood on the pavement looking extremely agitated.

I approached him; through the throngs of people shouting/singing/dancing and vomiting (what the fuck is wrong with Brummies and the puking thing?) and he started yelling at me all aggressive and upset accusing me of ‘NOT BEING WHERE I SAID I WAS’…I realised he was getting really annoyed and as I was about to answer him, a drunk fuck of a man wearing a tweed jacket of all things slid his hand under my ass and stroked my bum.

Husband had no idea what had just happened, so I directed my face and anger away from husband and screamed at tweed man’s back as he staggered through the crowd…then I turned to husband who by now had turned into ‘rain man’ and was gibbering. My husband has Aspergers Syndrome…now this is no excuse and it fucks me off, but he does get angry and jittery if he can’t find me or if I had changed plans without telling him. It’s a bit like autism….I know ‘lucky fucking me’

So now I am angry at TWO men on the busiest street in Birmingham. I simply walked off and left husband struggling through the crowd looking for me, I went a walk into the dark streets off the main city centre and hoped I could find ‘Tweedy Boy’ and kick his fucking bollox…
To cut the story short, I went back to hotel finally and him and I argued and shouted and plotted the impending divorce….all because I had went missing for 53 seconds outside a stage door in Birmingham…he had came back from the bar just as I had walked onto the dance floor to say goodbye to manageress of club…that is what kept us awake to 6am fighting. So we finally slept.
At 9am we got up, we packed; we loaded the car we came home.
I love my fucking life…don’t you?