Rescue

Grey rescued me today. I had sent him an email last night before I went to bed inviting him to go to dim sum and Shakespeare in the Park. Then, after the toilet incident, I emailed him again saying to scratch all that and asking if I could come over and hang out quietly in a corner by myself without talking. The part I'm leaving out here is that the washing machine now seems to be broken. It won't drain and I have a load of sewagey bath mats stewing in there. Grey sent back a sympathetic response and said he wanted to join us for dim sum.

So he did. And it was fine. Mrs Newlywed took a bit longer to warm up to him but he was trying so hard to be worthy (of me?) that I think they both really took a shine to him. He even told me that he only came to dim sum because he thought I wanted him to be there. Which is, of course, a bald-faced lie. But it's a sweet bald-faced lie. After that, they left to meet other friends and I went home with him. He bought me a paper, made out with me (which was lovely), let me nap and then finish the crossword in the sunny corner, cooked me dinner (spaghetti was so good) and started a movie (Be Kind, Rewind, it was terrible).

He also said he almost called me after he watched Definitely, Maybe. He called me a hopeless romantic and laughed when I reminded him that he's the hopeless romantic. "When my girlfriends tell me that I deserve better, someone who treats me well, I remind them, "isn't your husband making you fucking miserable?" Nothing romantic in that."

When he drove me home, I thanked him for rescuing me. And when he dropped me off, a guy with assless chaps walked by and made him howl with laughter. It really was the perfect day, minus the toilet washing machine incident.

I'm going to spend the next couple of hours before the newlyweds return watching recorded TV. Bones, CSI, Without a Trace, Law and Order. That is, if I can tune out the MEGABASS from the end of the Pride Week street party.