13) Pepsi

Sit down and let me tell you a story, about how I fell in love, again

It isn't a long story

About 8 hours long, that's all

But that's enough for it to be a love story

And it's called Pepsi

Now, it's a Saturday morning, and I'm minding my own business, as I do, having a Cappa and reading the papers outside Caffe Nero, as I do

And I'm watching the world go by, and the cars go through, Barnes, when one of the cars (a rather nice one, though I'm not very into cars) pulls up

And a rather nice girl (and I'm very into rather nice girls) gets out

And she's cooly blonde, and cooly beautiful, and dressed cooly casual, and she has a small tattoo in the small of her back

Which is cool as well

And she goes into the cafe, and then comes out and sits at the table next to mine

So there we are

This is quite interesting

And then one of the baristas comes out and hands the girl a chocolate and says "Happy Birthday", with a smile

So now I know it is her birthday and she is so sweet she can charm a barista in a nano-second

So I say, "Nice car, what is it?"

And she told me later that if I'd asked any other question she wouldn't have spoken to me

So that was a good start

It was an old TVR (or Trevor as I explained), and she was Pepsi. And it was her birthday, 32 I think, and she was on her own, on the way back from her parents, on her way to pick up the rather powerful motorbike she had ordered for herself, as a treat

And she no immediate plans

And neither, suddenly, did I

This was going well

So we started to talk

And we just couldn't stop

And she listened to my CD, and laughed, and looked disapproving but forgiving when I knew she would. And she looked at all my photos and loved all the right ones. And she read 'Mandy' & 'Christine' and loved them too

Now I have to say: if you are a rather beautiful girl, and you like my voice, and my photos, and my stories then, by definition, I am starting to like you a lot

I have absolutely no idea, of course, what you're thinking, or feeling, about me...

And Pepsi (its her nickname, her real name was Nichola) believes in fate

And I say, that's why you're sitting here

And we both know something is happening

And we both like it happening

So we...

...have another coffee

And we move into the back area, because the sun has moved while we've sat for so long

And we move like ballet dancers through the crowded cafe

And now she's got her dog from the car

And the dog is gorgeous too

And she charms everyone at every table with her svelte, friendly grace

And everybody is smiling because this girl is just so beautiful, and sweet, and funny and...

And I must say I thought this was going rather well

And her family called her "Chicken", but I've learnt not to count my chickens, with girls

Because there is one problem

The word "Boyfriend" is slipped into the conversation

Now I must say I'm beginning to hate that word

Not out of jealousy, I'm long beyond that

Nor out of competition. I can cope with that

But out of a growing realisation of just how many bright beautiful girls have, not boyfriends, of course they have boyfriends, but

BAD

Boyfriends

And the more beautiful they are the more likely it seems that their boyfriends are

REALLY REALLY

BAD

And, for whatever reason, they STAY with the bad boyfriends

And the Bad Boyfriends get rid of me

Pronto

And I haven't worked out the solution, yet

So, Pepsi is telling me about her boyfriend, with some distaste, and her boyfriend - let's call him "Creep" (seems like a good name to me) - hasn't organised ANYTHING for her birthday

And she's still waiting for him to tell her if he'll DEIGN to meet her, at all, on her birthday

And for one bright minute I think she's going to say "Fxxk him" and go to lunch with me

But she doesn't, quite

Instead she say "I could talk to you all day"

And I say "I could talk to you all day too" (which is not something I often say to Estate Agents, for that is what she was)

And she says "But I have to meet my friends"

And I say "And I have to see Amy and Sharon"

And she says "Here's my number", and punches it in

"Call me when you can join us. I'm not going to tell "Creep" (my name not hers). He can like it or lump it"

And on that, promising, note she goes

After spending three delightful hours over two cappas with me



Wow

Let me say that again

WOW

I am, a little, in love


So I go to see Amy and Sharon, then call Pepsi, and agree to meet on the Green in Chiswick

And its her birthday. So I get her a little something

Nothing too heavy

One white rose

One card (picture of dog - quite innocent)

& One Eric Clapton CD (she's never heard him)

I thought that would be appreciated

So we meet on the Green

And she's on her own

And she is so happy to see me

We greet, like friends and lovers do

Then "Creep" arrives and, guess what, he is not so happy to see me

At all

Then her other friends arrive. And there's a nice girl who works with Pepsi. And a nice guy who works with Creep. And me. And that was her birthday treat.

And she deserved better

Especially better than Creep

Now I have nothing against men. Some, well a few, of my best friends are men. But I can't stand men like Creep. And there seem to be a lot of them about. And they give men a bad name, and girls a bad time. And I don't like that. So here goes

Creep was a black hole of self loathing who tried to suck everyone around him into his orbit. But he wasn't much of a hole, and didn't have much pull. So he had just three satellites. The boy, the girl and Pepsi

And because of her incredibly low self esteem, caused by a domineering father, she had got locked in his orbit. Which is reversible, in time. But not, in the short term. Which was all the time I had. And that is incredible sad, but something I'm getting used to

So I stayed until 5:00, when I had to go to Oxford. And we bought Rose, and food, and played frisbee

All except Creep, who didn't do anything, or say anything, or contribute anything at all to his girlfriend's birthday

Except wait, for me to be gone

And at one point Pepsi engineered, carefully, our bring alone together, and out of earshot

And she said "Honestly, what do you think of him?"

And I said "Honestly?"

"Yes"

"Get a thousand miles away from that pile of bile, as fast as you can"

And she understood, and nodded


And I left


And she ticked and said "Talk tomorrow, Thanks for today  x"

Then "Thanks for yesterday. Talk later. x"

And we talked on the phone. And I said I was worried he would take 'me' out on 'her'

And then


"Honest as I always am, trying to sort out my life, head and heart  right now and listening to the latter two. Was good to talk to you XXX"

And then

"Hi Peter. Don't think this is a good idea. (Creep) and I are hectic at the moment. Hope Oxford is as cool as Clapton. All the best x"

And then

"Sorry, not happy to continue this contact. I could be reading too much into it. but...Hope you're OK with that"

The Creep had struck

And I said "I met a girl on her birthday. She seemed a bit down. I tried to cheer her up. Seemed to work at the time. Don't read too much into it"

Which wasn't what I felt

Which was a wave of sadness that I'd failed the Pepsi challenge

Just what I thought I should say...


peterhero 2006

Bajan Girls Are Beautiful

UPDATE: The Calm After The Storm

I was touched by the messages of sympathy from readers about my four days of  "Holiday from Hell" during Hurricane Paula (not as bad as Superstorm Sandy - but bad enough)

Thankyou Cherry, Tia, Kevin and Robert especially

But, true to form, out of adversity I found strength, and opportunity

Just as Barak, thankfully, overcame Mitt by ignoring the White, Male, Not Very Bright US voter, so peterhero prevailed by ignoring the White, Female, Not Very Bright UK Girl (Paula) and setting his sights on The Rest of The World...

More follows...

peterhero x

70) A Night, Out, In Barbados

Or ---Newsflash---Great White Shark Seen In Caribbean (see photo above)


It should all have gone so well

8 Days in the Turtle Beach Hotel

(Good deal, well done, by best PA in the World)

With aforementioned Paula

And her 'bestest' friend, ever, Dominique, whom I love, and vice versa

What could POSSIBLY go wrong with that?

Well, quite a lot actually, as it turned out



Not that there was any indication, even an inkling, of any impending

 IMPLOSION

when we met at the Sports Bar, in Victoria

Nor at Harvey Nicks (lunch), nor Harrods (last minute bits and pieces - plus the Tom Ford dept. trying to make me smell even more like Tom Ford (Noir > Hynacinth) than I look like Tom Ford, which is A LOT

Nr, indeed, at The Govesnor where Paula leaves us (lap dog) and Dom's best friend (lapdancer) joins us for a night discussing Ugandan relations (which is another story ALTOGETHER, and a rather good one, I predict)

No, the first cloud on the horizon, the first smudge in the distance that gently predicted at the impending

HURRICANE,

was between 6:28am and 6:33am, when Paula phoned me FOUR TIMES to tell me not to be late in getting to Victoria Station

In Which I was Standing

Then she would NOT let me sleep on the Express (at 6:30am, after a 3some & two hours sleep)

Then she would NOT sit with me for a Cappa at Gatwick

Then she would NOT board at the same time as me

Then she would NOT sit with me, nor let me sit in the middle

Then she would NOT talk to me, nor let Dom talk to me

NOR would she get me a drink, nor let me out to the toilet, nor indeed do ANYTHING for me at all

And when I asked politely for anything

She told me to Fxxk right off Peter, I'm sick of your attitude

Which as a good start to a flight

Which was 8.5 hours of FXXKING FLYING HELL

(oh, and my video and headphones didn't work, Thanks a bunch, Richard)


Then it was all sweetness and light relief as we landed in the arms of Andy at the airport


Commercial Break

Andy, best cab driver in Barbados

"fast, reliable, courteous"

(246) 262 7821

(246) 237 9969

email: transport2go@yahoo.com

who drove us to Turtle Beach, while Paula manhandled him from the back seat

But then the dark clouds started looming and lowering as the holiday began


Paula's itinerary for the holiday soon became clear:

Morning: Paula & Dom sleep; Peter does 'whatever' on his own somewhere

Afternoon: Paula & Dom do something nice together, Peter does something else, somewhere else alone

Evening: Peter pays for Paula & Dom to go clubbing together, Peter has a quiet night in and goes to bed alone

(Paula does make it clear that she is prepared to have 'loads of fun' with Peter, for loads of money, but Peter knows from experience that this would last several seconds and hardly worth the effort of undressing, let alone the money)

This itinerary was not, in all honesty, what Dom had had in mind

And, to be frank, it was CERTAINLY not what i had in mind when I had paid for the holiday

But then I had only paid for it

Paula, meanwhile, had PLANNED it all, in meticulous detail

Because she, as she told Dom on 3,567 occasions had known Peter for 4 years, not four minutes, so understood him, and knew what was best for him

And for Paula, his ever altruistic assistante

But, all was well the next morning as Andy drove us to Bridgetown and Paula got everyone at Cartier & LV (not interested) & Kors (Angel's favourite, good value, as I mentioned to Paula's displeasure) to treat Peter as a BIG celebrity, which he isn't, thereby to make herself look of some interest or importance, which she isn't

Dark, threatening, clouds realy began to move in on the cab on the way back when I gently requested a little QT as I had a bit of a headache

Best PA in the World (self styled)'s response was to tell me to::

FUCK OFF>WHO DID I THINK I WAS<SHE WOULD NOT SHUT UP>SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT AND I'LL PUNCH YOUR FACE

or something similar

For

Two

Solid 

Hours

Once drinks arrived at the bar all was calm again and Paula gently informed Peter that he had only himself to blame

It was ALL HIS FAULT

Because...(I could hardly wait)

Since He Had Met Angel He Had Changed

?

I Had met Angel, for the second time (MUCH more succesfully this time, she had at least stayed to the end of it) the day before we left. And while a delightful date, which will be repeated, I had not thought it life-changing

Then the penny dropped (thanks Penny)

Paula is the archetype of 'projection', whereby one accuses another of that of which one is one's self guilty

As when Paula says 'she's only after your money, Peter'

So, simle word substitution allows the disencryption of the above message, thus:

It is all Paula's fault

Because since Peter met Angel

Paula had changed

QED

But why?

And then I remembered, they had spoken, briefly, on the phone

And Angel had asked Paula a question, about shopping, about which jeans to buy

Now when a girl asks Paula about shopping Paula is in her element

This is her specialist subject

In fact, her only subject

So Paula, with complete authority pronounced not her opinion, but Paula's absolute tablet of stone judgement on the question

And Angel just...

Laughed

Just a giggle

Like when your dad tries to say something hip about House music, and gets the name wrong

But, a girl had asked Paula about shopping, and laughed at her answer

What Paula heard (she has a great instinct for self preservation) was a death rattle

Her own

With words such as 'younger model', 'old banger', 'past her sell by date' and '32' being whispered by the chorus

And she was suddenly afraid, very afraid

And of course angry, very angry

At Angel

For what is an Angel but an intimation of mortality

& for being younger, hipper, looser, brighter, nicer and sexier

And at me

Me, of all people

For bringing the laugh of an Angel into her life


But, you musn't think it was all bad at the beach

Paula then decided to include in the Itinerary a throbbing 3some with Dom in which, to her own astonishment, she came 6 times in 15 minutes 

Which was a lot of times for Paula

And a lot of time for Paula to indulge in sex, or indeed anything other than shopping

She declared that Peter was a sex God

And that we should make porn

I said that I agreed with Cindy (another Brit adman of the 80's) and 

makelovenotporn.com

But Paula didn't seem to understand

And took Dom off to the beach

While Peter went for a long, cool, swim


The next thing he heard was Dom

In the lobby

On the phone to Tia

Vowing, LOUDLY, that she was going to take Paula for a swim in the Caribbean

Or at least her head

Leaving her body to rot on the beach

Tracy (see below), overhearing (it was hard not to), later said it was terrifying

Because when a Jamaica girl says she is going to take your head off your shoulders

A dotted line appears around your neck...

You just do not mess with Jamaica


Anyway, Peter calmed things down

And generously said they could go off clubbing that night (Champions League night, I had better things to do)

As Peter quietly awaited their return (they had not said when, or - Paula's case - even if..) he bumped into Tracy (lovely) & Karen (also lovely) and their husbands in the bar. Good people, very funny, very cool and GROWN UP. Just what I needed

And, to cut a long story short, Tracy lost a UKP100 bet to me but had no cash

The general consensus was that, in that case, she should repay peterhero in kind

Very kind

Sexual favours

Shylock had his pound of flesh, I should take the top 100 pounds of Tracy (I have something of a history with Tracies, but then, don't we all guys?)

But Peter, ever the gentleman, said he would accept only Bajan Prides (his cocktail of choice), in a way that suggested to my girls that I had had  a GREAT time in their absence

This seemed to disappoint Tracy

But amuse her husband 



Anyway, the girls came back, good as gold, at 1.30

At 1.30 Paula said she would leave the next day. I said "Good". Go to sleep

By 2.00 They were shouting accusations at Peter that he had had sex in the room with Tracy while they were out.

On the basis that a suitcase had been moved

I said I hadn't. They said I was lying

I said, OK I had (anything for a quiet life, and some sleep). They said I was lying

I pointed out that ONE of these statements MUST be true

They didn't seem to notice

By 2.30 They were hurling insults at each other, which Peter, on the whole, preferred, but which was still NOISY

3.30 Paula was hurling things at Peter, which hurt

4.00 Management knocked on the door. Which calmed things for 15 minutes. During those 15 minutes Paula deleted texts to Peter from Cherry & sent a forged text from Peter to Angel

4.15 The girls now started stage whispering insults at Peter. Which he couldn't quite hear. But which was enough to keep him awake

4.30 Peter agreed to apologise ON HIS HANDS AND KNEES for everything and anything he had ever said or done to Paula if they would just let him SLEEP

4.45 Apology not accepted


At 5.00am Peter decided that enough was enough, and announced that as they were clearly never going to allow him to sleep and left for the beach, in the rain

Which was an improvement 

When he returned to the room at 7.00 THEY WERE ASLEEP

At 10.00 They were still asleep

At 11.00 they woke up and Paula promised it would all be lovely today, and for Peter not to be such a silly billy, and then they could all have FUN

At 12.30 Dom threatened to kill Paula AGAIN if Paula ever said AGAIN that she had known Peter for 4 years (it's 6, actually - but who's counting?). No specific proposal of how this time so I assumed beheading Paula

Which would be an improvement

At 1.30 Paula said she was leaving. This time Peter & Dom said "Good", rather to Paula's surprise as she knew we knew we couldn't manage without her, really

Peter went for a swim

On his return to the room at 5.00 Paula & Dom were having a verbal fight in front of a terrified maid which looked as if it could lead to fisticuffs, aggravated assault or homicide

In front of a witness, to boot

At 8.00 Paula went to sleep, and Peter & Dom went for a nice quiet dinner

Too tired to talk

At 9.30 they returned

at 10.00 Dom was asleep too

Meanwhile I, having been awake for 44 of the last 48 hours, was too tired to sleep

And went to write this story

Until 4.00 in the morning

Now I am going to sleep

And hopefully tomorrow will dawn quiet and calm and still

And Hurricane Paula will have blown itself out

Or, at least, flown itself out

And Peter, and Dom, can begin, at last, their long-awaited holiday on the white beaches, under the blue skies, beside the blue sea in the most beautiful resort in the most beautiful holiday destination in the world

Turtle Beach, Barbados



peterhero  2012

Multi Media platform

As well as googling High50.com for peterhero's new column

Why not become a friend of Peter Hero on Facebook

My friends are all beautiful people

Especially the Portugese babes

Never been to Portugal

Will do now

Peter Hero (at the sign of Infinite Love)

UPDATE

Meet Deborah Joseph, Editor of Conde Nast's Easy Living magazine

And my new best friend

As part of her highly succesful revamp of the magazine (a good read by the way) she has introduced a 'sophisticated sex' section

And is looking for 'erotic non-fiction'

Would one of my 400 US readers please save her and me a lot of time and tell her where to find the best written, most sophisticated, erotic (but romantic) non-fiction in the world

And it helps that she too comes from Manchester (MHSG = MGS for girls)

And that she is, as Penny put it, "Gosh, gorgeous"

I look forward to hearing from her soon

Thanks

peterhero x

Paula says I look like him, whoever he is