Birthday romance?

Men and birthdays don’t go well together in my experience, not that I have much.

Experience of the two together I mean. And I’ve also had more birthdays than men, but that’s not really relevant.

But as I celebrated my birthday some days ago, I remembered a past encounter.

I had a ‘boyfriend’. So to speak, as he was married and definitely not a boy, and I was single, and in my twenties.

Pause from the anecdote to talk about affairs, I mean sex, with married men…

1) Do not even start with any criticism about my lack of morals. I was not married. He was. Is this clear?

2) Anyone who thinks that if a (single) woman refuses to sleep with a married man, that he will forthwith lead a blamefree and unadulterous life is seriously deluded. Absolutely and utterly certifiable.

3) Because, someone who is married and wants extra-marital sex, will find it wherever.

4) Truism number one. Yes, they really do say, ‘My wife doesn’t understand me.’

5) Truism number two. Yes, they really do say, ‘I don’t get enough sex.’

6) Truism number three. Yes, it is always the woman’s fault for seducing that poor weak corruptible man.

7) And finally, there is no way that you can deny the fact that you get some sort of kick out of this. In our patriarchal society the fact that you are SO sexy, SO irresistible, SO desirable that you can lead a man astray, just does wonders for your standing. You are sophisticated, worldly, hot beyond belief.

Right, back to the story……

The good thing about having sex with a married man, is that there is no commitment. You are the bit on the side, some fun, as and when appropriate or convenient (for both of you). Most of your time together is taken up with sex (obviously), eating and sleeping out (in nice hotels, usually on a company account), and maybe a few idle sort of dates – driving round the countryside or visiting a museum. Nothing heavy. No drudgery. No boredom. A few intense ‘phone calls or passionate letters (well, on his part anyway).

But remember. The obvious one to remember, is ‘DO NOT BELIEVE HIM’. Oops sorry for shouting. It is fairly obvious though that if he is cheating on his wife, then he is a lying git and would do the same to you. So, keeping our wits about us, when they come out with guff about how they absolutely love us to bits, wish they had met us sooner, think about us all the time, blah blah boring blah. Just remember that it is guff. ‘Do not believe him.’ Stay calm, and in control.

When he comes to visit you on your birthday, bearing a radio that you didn’t want as a present, start to be suspicious. A radio that isn’t even in a box because he dealt in stolen goods. Regardless of the fact that he brings you a rather ugly unboxed radio, drag him into a local city and make him buy you some nice gold and coral earrings. I still have them, although I can’t remember the last time I wore them, not really my style any more and they would be hidden by my long hair.

But start to think. This guy has bought you a ‘present’ for your birthday. It is not remotely what you want. It is not remotely ‘romantic.’ And, as an irrelevancy, it happened to be nicked (I assumed later, maybe I am doing him an injustice but he did end up on trial at Crown Court for fencing stolen goods).

And when he walks out of the door, and you say goodbye as he goes back to wifey, you see the look on his face, and you know it’s over.

I thought it would be the last time I saw him, but it wasn’t.

Some weeks, or maybe a month or two later, I was going to a camping exhibition and he was staying somewhere near. Can’t even remember why he got in touch again. But anyway I visited his hotel.

I’d got up earlyish, ie 7am or so, had breakfast, and set off on the road, driving an hour plus. Reached reception and asked for him by name. ‘Just go on up to his room,’ said the receptionist. Ha ti ha. Should have twigged then, shouldn’t I?

Needless to state, he was still lying around in bed, and quickly started doing a few supposedly sexy gyrations. We had a brief chat and he asked me to get into bed with him.

‘No thanks,’ I said (or words to that effect) and walked out of the door without a backward glance, feeling like a clichéed film star. Or at least hoping I looked vaguely like one.

And that really was the last time I saw him.

A few more details for any of you who want the not remotely lurid trivia.

We actually first got in touch over the ‘phone and he had a sexy voice. He wasn’t particularly sexy when I met him, but by then we had both got too sucked into it. I guess the ‘phone was the precursor of internet contacts.

His wife at some point obviously got hold of his little black book and rang me. Except I was in Australia at the time and my parents answered. Probably helped contribute towards my father’s infamous comment some years later accusing me of ‘trashing around’.

This is not a bitter post. I have no bad feelings towards him. I have no feelings towards him. It is so long ago, he was fun at the time, and I knew what I was getting into. I thought it would be interesting to share the anecdote and reflect on the way society judges ‘scarlet woman who seduces married man’. (Yuk)

And, because I have said this to some people via email, if my partner chooses to have sex with another woman, then no, I do not think it is her fault. She is not some immoral whore while he is a poor innocent victimised man. He has the choice to say ‘No’. ‘No’ is not difficult. If I can say it, so can he. ‘No’ is as easy as ‘Yes’.

Oh and back to the original point of the post about men and birthdays. I don’t think in my youth that I ever managed to sustain a relationship long enough to last until my birthday. All the other girls at school seemed to manage endless relationships with boring boys and proudly showed off their birthday presents. I on the other hand, managed to lose the boring boys before my birthday, or before Valentine’s day, or before Christmas. Always lost out on the accompanying status presents.

And what happened when I did get one? A nicked radio.

So there is a lesson there. A man who treats your birthday like crap is a man not worth bothering with. (Married or not).

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About roughseasinthemed

I write about my life as an English person living in Spain and Gibraltar, on Roughseas, subjects range from politics and current developments in Gib to book reviews, cooking and getting on with life. My views and thoughts on a variety of topics - depending on my mood of the day - can be found over on Clouds. A few pix are over on Everypic - although it is not a photoblog. And of course my dog had his own blog, but most of you knew that anyway. Pippadogblog etc
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6 Responses to Birthday romance?

  1. Imogen says:

    My secretary will reply in her own right later on, poor dear, she needs time to digest such posts as yours.However, I would like to say, I agree with all you have written here.Except I have had many boys, and men, many more than my actual birthday age now. But of course, I am truly the Tart in F.M. Shoes.Indeed.Scarlett – who may or may not be signed in as the correct person-age – suffering as I do from M.P.S. – Multiple Personality Syndrome

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  2. Scarlett says:

    I commend this blog post.I thought mistakenly I had lost my halfpenny, but thank goodness it is now returned to me.I will comment in much depth later on this interesting post.Scarlett ps you don't have to publish this one if you don't think it fitting, I have more publicity than I can shake a stick at presently. I am just relieved to find things as I left them.

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  3. this is a very thought provoking post.Yes, I had some reservations about such encounters, possibly, ingrained prejudice.However, the boot, here, was once on the other foot.I was married ……..and so was he.More on this farrago in another twenty five thousand words of emails perhaps?

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  4. Your seven points at the beginning of this post are very valid ones.I have enjoyed reading this post, I would like to comment further and in more detail, but I am afraid of incriminating myself in public!However, much food for thought on here.And yes, crap birthday presents from a man, are always a symptom of a dodgy prospect.

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  5. She says:

    I personally think this entry is crap, and your denial filled excuses, are pitied. Against your wishes, I am judging you — you chose to announce to the world, via the internet, that you think it's OK to sleep with other people's husbands. My opinion on your actions and skewed morality is fair game. If this was an entry about the "one time I screwed up and slept with someone elses husband, and now I feel like a jerk," I wouldn't even bother… We're human, we make mistakes… However, the fact that you kind of get off on the idea, after the fact, totally makes me lack any understanding. The fact that you were lame enough to post this on the world wide web, allows me to feel ok about telling you why. You're asking for judgment at this point.You're right it is HIS commitment, but way to cop out on being an asshole who contributes to the hurtfulness of someone else. Sure it's his commitment, but if you weren't willing to share your vagina with him — you would be in no part of the blame, but you did — so you are. If you chose to NOT sleep with him, it would be someone elses story, but you had the audacity to allow it to be yours. Just because they weren't your vows that were broken, doesn't make you any less involved or unmoral. Which leads me to your second load of crap, the 'if I don't fuck him — he'll just fuck someone else anyway.' Again you're right, but what a pathetic validation of your part in the matter. Like I said, this could be someone else's disgusting experience… Way to say, "he's gonna find SOME unmoral skank anyway, might as well be me!" Just so you're aware, your justification screams "I have fallen so far into the depths of enternal self-loathing that I think it's ok to be completely hedonistically selfish and make everything about ME!" I'm sorry, but people who have convinced themselves that participating in something so hurtful on another human, is ok — don't like themselves. Well rounded individuals know more than just definition of empathy, they practice it.This point leads to the obvious contradiction between the fact that he's going to fuck SOMEONE anyway, and it being completely arousing that you have the power to "lead a man astray…" You just said the complete opposite four points up and should know that you are completely kidding yourself. Get over yourself, you're not "SO sexy" and "SO irresistible" that you led a man astray — you were just the self loathing, unmoral vagina that allowed this idiot to blow his load inside. You know the same load he would have been willing to share with someone else, had it not been you? If you claim you know he's just gonna do it with someone besides you anyway, how can you lay claim to such power? Easy, you can't. In short — you're basically just a classless whore, who lives in denial, and brags about it on the internet. Your existence is sad really, hopefully your belief system in no way includes karma — cause you're definitely owed some.

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  6. I published this comment – She without a blog – because I thought it was interesting. Abusive, but mildly interesting.Usually when I read something that is crap, I don't bother making a response, so however crap you thought my post was, you couldn't resist responding.First lesson, sweetheart. If you think something is crap, and doesn't merit your attention – leave it alone.But of course, your opinion is fair game, and my opinion is just that – my opinion. Our society, rather than specifically my morals, are all skewed. I'm being pragmatic. If some women want a shag and he happens to be married – the women are not the demons in this affair (I'm talking about single women here). The one who has taken the vow of fidelity and has broken it is the man, so stop defending the adulterer. Or rather, stop pushing the blame onto the woman.I'm not asking for any judgement. I live within myself and not in the eyes of others.Nor did I share my vagina. I used his cock for a brief while. Don't try and embarrass me.I think you have misunderstood my poorly expressed irony. The whole point of the 'being sexy' is about the way patriarchal society pressurises women to seduce men and feel sexually attractive at every hour of the day.Hmm classless whore. Not been called that before. Hardly bragging either. More sharing an experience with other women who may have been through similar situations. Of course, clearly a whore is a woman to deprecate. A woman with no values or standards. Oh wait! Surely not a woman who happens to be used by men and abused by them. Shit. We should all be cute little virgin brides no doubt and just wait by that cooker wearing our little pinny.Self-loathing – definitely not. Nor is my existence remotely sad.I have no idea whether you are a man or a woman, and I don't care. But top tip. Stop reading feminist blogs and go fuck about on those ghastly submissive subversive type ones where women lie down and men are men.Get out of my face.

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