So I had this boyfriend once. The relationship lasted six years in total, which was about four years longer than it should have. In the early days, when I was young and ridiculous and didn’t care about money and responsibility and other grown-up burdens, it was wonderful. They were the days of sunshine and endless intoxication.
The boy was a bass player in a moderately successful local band so we had the ability, through his connections, to go out and see live music and get wasted nearly every night without having to spend much money. As time went on it became increasingly difficult to sustain this way of living and I grew tired of the band scene and then quickly grew tired of him. When I stopped drinking and started staying home and spending time on more wholesome pursuits, the boyfriends’ obnoxious drunkery became less than easy to deal with. Don’t get me wrong, he was never violent or emotionally abusive or anything, just really fucking annoying, all the time.
He must have felt me becoming distant, because he started spending more time with the band, drinking and jamming or whatever, and less time at home. This was completely fine by me. I actually started to dread the times when he would be home. It was a shitty situation and I felt unable to remove myself from it because of the life we had together. By this point we shared a lease, worked at the same place (thanks to the job I him) , shared (my) car, and were going through a lengthy court case that was likely to drag on for another few years. All that stuff seemed insurmountable to me. How could I possibly exit the relationship when our lives were so wildly entangled? Obviously I eventually found a way out, and if anyone reading this is in a similar situation, I implore you to do the same. But if, like me, you’re kind of stuck there for a little while, here’s some survival tips I picked up along the way.
- Be prepared for late-night homecomings with much fuss and fanfare. The Drunk One will not give a damn that you’re currently balls-deep in some quality REM action and dreaming of a much better life with, I dunno, Tom Hardy or someone. The Drunk One is shimmering with child-like excitement at getting to see you, and expects you to feel the same. He’s home! He’s drunk! Let’s celebrate! He had the best night and you need the hear every fucking inarticulate drunken detail!In my experience, I found the best way to stave off an unwanted late night seedy boyfriend attack is to hit him where it hurts; the stomach. Chances are he’s already had a dodgy lamb pie or seafood burrito or something equally disgusting that only drunk people eat and is breathing his hot fragrant breath all over you. This doesn’t matter; the drunk boyfriend is a bottomless pit. It helps if you’ve already got something prepared or really easily made in the fridge. The suggestion of a beef roll or a pizza pocket will send the drunkard into a gluttonous frenzy and, more importantly, out of your way. At least temporarily.
You then have to deal with him returning to the room, all belchy and gross, and attempting to slobber-kiss you with his pizza-pockety mouth and poke you in the thigh with his unenthusiastic erection. Whatever you do, do not give in to these clumsy advances. The Drunk One is currently the worst kind of lover- horny as fuck but unable to, you know, actually fuck. Don’t get me wrong, he’ll make a valiant effort, but it won’t actually lead anywhere remotely satisfying. The most likely outcome is him passing out on top of you, mid lazy-thrust, and then you having to find your way out from under a 100kg drooling, snoring mess while wondering how the fuck did your life end up this way.To try and ameliorate this whole unsavoury situation, I suggest having something pre-recorded and set up in the lounge room for him to watch whilst consuming his delicious drunk treats. ‘Baby there’s some leftovers in the fridge you can heat up, and I recorded the football game that was on while you were out’ should work a treat. Failing that, yor only other options are to fake snore, play dead, or spike his drink with your emergency supply of Xanax.
To Be Continued…