If only I knew then what I knew now is a phrase I often turn to in modern life when I reflect upon the past. Some twenty years ago, I was a youthful and excited nineteen year old boy in the most obvious formation. Whilst being well read with a great understanding of the arts and music, there was one area that still left me struggling. Girls!
One such young lady who I had developed more than just a slight crush upon was Jillian, a Canadian lass who, from the moment I laid eyes upon, wanted more than anything before in my life! She was beautiful, intelligent, creative and had the coolest dress sense. I only had one small problem of which I was unaware of at the time. She was gay!
Not being flush with money, one Sunday evening I decided to pop over to her house on Latrobe Terrace in Paddington with a bunch of hand picked flowers to give to Jillian and confess that I was well and truly besotted with her. Unfortunately for me, i didn’t bank on the fact that she wouldn’t be home. It was Sunday evening. It was 6 pm. Of course she was going to be in.
A few months earlier, I had met a girl, Angie at a local indie club called Popscene. Angie was a flight attendant and dating an English guy called Chappie. Who the actual fuck calls themselves Chappie anyway? He was older and I guess more worldly at that time than myself so the night Angie found out he’d been sleeping with three other woman, I became her revenge weapon of sorts. I didn’t know or understand at the time that Angie had only one use for me when we went back to her place and that was to get even with Chappie.
We didn’t even sleep together that night because I was still a virgin and wanted to wait for the right moment so we made out, fooled around and spooned for the night. The following day we lazed about, played albums by Pulp, Blur and Radiohead whilst snuggling together in a darkened appartment. A week later when I saw Angie at Popscene, she was, once more, perched on Chappie’s arm. Lesson learned.
So where was I? Oh yes, perched on Jillian’s doorstep with my hand picked flowers from her neighbours garden.
As the evening wore on, the house remained in darkness and I eventually fell asleep on the doorstep. Around 11 pm, I felt a prod in my stomach from a boot. It was Jillian’s flat mate who was also her girlfriend going into protection mode wondering why some random guy was asleep on her steps. Jillian was soon to arrive whilst she thought my now broken flowers were sweet, it was time we had that “chat” and one of my first lessons in life about being let down gently.
The beauty of this era was people still set you straight face to face. None of this getting dumped via text message lark. It was all about setting it straight in person.
It took me a good few months to move on from Jillian. For a while, I was sure she was realise how fabulous I was and come to her senses. Sadly, she didn’t however, some years later she did end up getting married to a man. Yes, a fucking bloke!
Wrong place, wrong time…..