How To Ditch A Letch Politely

Wolf-300The night before last the ex and I had a very posh night. We were invited to the very lush, very exclusive and private members only club; Soho house.
We sat there in the warm, dark red-painted room, drinking extremely over priced drinks (brought to us by cute professional caterers) as we sat on a soft, giant sofa next to a huge great big massive pervert!

I had never met the guy before, the ex had met him once.
He kept patting my arm, or griping my shoulder or rubbing my back. Ick.
The ex was convinced he was gay (since that’s what he had told everybody) and frankly so was I.
He moved his hands in this effeminate, camp way while talking and in any case I had no real reason to doubt it.
He did seem to be slightly….puffed up. Very full of himself. But whatever, like I care. Give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’s just a lonely old man.
The ex bought 2 drinks. Left one on the table and gave me one. He saw it and immediately asked
“Is that for me?”
It certainly wasn’t, but had to be politely agreed to. Yes of course it is.

After two of the pervert’s mates left at 2:30am, the mood of the situation dramatically changed for the worse and it got really awkward and tense.

Turns out he wasn’t really gay. To prove this he gave one of those show-biz pecks on the lips to both the ex and me (double ick).
The ex suddenly started grilling him on his sexuality, why did he lie? Is he gay? Bi? Straight? Again, why would he lie about it?
He refused point-blank to answer the question or questions.
The ex was getting more and more belligerent and persistent.
I try deflecting the situation by saying
“Who cares about labels blah blah it doesn’t matter anyway…”
but the tension didn’t dissipate.

He then looks at both of us and says what are you two in the mood for (all the while still clutching my arm, rubbing my back ew ew ew).

We both eye each other warily,
“Not sure? What…..would you like to do?”
He suggests maybe a club? Maybe some drugs?

I say nothing, the ex refuses the drugs but the guy then invites himself over for a joint. Crap crap crap.

We are unfortunately coerced into agreeing.

Mentally I was thinking, fine if this guy is the ex’s friend whatever but I really would rather get rid of him politely.

The ex just wanted to get rid of him point-blank by running away and hiding behind a car.

Unfortunately since he could clearly see us standing on the street, I thought this was a pretty pointless strategy.

We both give each other looks when his back was turned thinking: How the fuck do we get rid of this creep?

“Maybe we should just call it a night and go our separate ways.”

had to be repeated at least 4 or 5 times before he took the hint.

Finally the guy left. Reasonably amicably for all the ex’s chest puffing and chest thumping.

After he left, the ex had an absolute brawl with me for being so dense as to try to get rid of him politely instead of running away.

I didn’t think he would do anything to both of us right in the middle of the street which at 3am was by no means empty and there’s no reason to be unnecessarily rude.

The ex and I parted ways angrily and stormed off in opposite directions.

I ran onto the first bus that came along. Half way through I changed my mind and walked back. Due to my indecision I ended up standing around on the streets for nearly an hour, occasionally walking up and down between Charing Cross road and Trafalgar waiting for the bus home.

The sky was just beginning to get light as it got closer to dawn when I finally reached the ex’s place.

The door was drunkenly swung open, we said nothing to each other as I got in the shower and the ex swayed back to bed.

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