2004-07-06 @ 12:05 a.m.
|A quick note from my first day of nannydom. Where's the kids? Didn't do much in the way of child-rearing or yelling at kids to mind their P's and Q's. The most solid time we spent together was watching Austin Powers in "The Spy Who Shagged Me" tonight. They were shouting out lines from the movie, so I guess I wasn't corrupting their delicate young minds with Austin's randy naughtiness.
I arrived in mid-afternoon, all sweaty and nerve wracked. His one son, who I think will probably be my pet, "G" helped me unload all my stuff including my unwieldly computer (oh how I wish I had a laptop instead of a three hundred pound IBM). The room I was to move into was a total mess. Sir G. had told me it would be cleared out, but it was solid STUFF with a French door that had no door handle or lock. But I needed both, both because it presented 1) safety issues for me 2) my cat might escape into the 7000 square feet manor never to be seen again. And also it (the door) kept randomly just flinging itself open everytime another door in another part of the house would be opened.
Also brought my poor schizo cat, in her cat carrying case. She was totally freaked and immmediately hid under the bed which was also jammed with stuff. When she finally came out, only about a half hour ago (6 hours after arriving), her whiskers were totally covered with sawdust and dust bunnies and she looked like a walrus.
Once I got settled in Sir G took me on yet another tour of the barely finished 7000 square foot manor. His major feat for this weekend? His entire house is now wired with cameras. Well, heh, heh, except for my part (and it better not be, dammit!!)
So we're sitting there in front of this massive bank of television screens, and he's hitting various buttons getting various close-ups of various rooms and hallwaysand suddenly his brother Hottie Tom, from "A"'s group, walks into the frame of one of the cameras, turns around, yanks down his jeans and gives us a full, freakin' Monty.
And I was like Yee-haw!! I knew there was a reason I got up today....Hottie Tom's ass in full living color. Sir G just sort of mumbled that his brother is always doing stuff like that.
And then his brother calmly pulls his pants back up, and appears up some side staircase and I think was shocked to see me standing there in front of the bank of television screens with his brother.
Ok, I admit I was slightly nonplussed. My sole contact with him, had only been a brief conversation with him at "A"s group and him fixing the flippy chair and now here I was getting to know him in a more biblical sense. And oh, did I mention, it was a most lovely ass.
And when he walked in I think I made a joke about having now seen all the planets including uranus. Pretty sophmoric, huh? Guess I felt kinda dumb.
And even for a split second even wondered...was this planned? He seemed a lot less startled than he should have been I thought. Erghh! Where's "A" when you need him?
I actually then spent a large part of the rest of the evening with Tom. He put the lock on my bedroom door. We investigated the possible sighting of a skunk on the front deck. He kept making sure I was comfortable and had enough to eat. We watched the Austin Powers movie together. And he made sure I knew his wife was an ex-wife.
This isn't exactly going the way its supposed to, is it "A"? And then there was a most interesting conversation amongst the three of us in my bedroom. Tom was putting on my door lock. I was on my bed, which is this quite large elaborate Victorian steel bed, and Sir G was standing nearby sweating (I have never seen anyone sweat as much as him. He is perpetually drenched in sweat). We then started talking about "A", and how much he likes us single folks to get hooked up with people on Match.com. I guess "A" tried to hook both Tom and Sir G with the same woman, and Sir G. wasn't too thrilled with that. And I guess Sir G. has already been talking to some women on Match.com. And right here in this room, he stated his preference very distinctly tonight. He wants a Woman under 34 years old.
Fuck...I haven't seen 34 in 12 years. Why am I here "A"? I know you seem to think I can work some kind of magic because of my oversexedness, but age is age. I can't compete with a 34 year old. Married Guy is married to a thirty something too. Seems like the only people who like us forty somethings are seventy somethings. And those types absolutely make my skin crawl.
And Sir G. certainly has a strange sense of humor. He made a joke to me tonight as I was standing in front of a second level open window, that he has a lot of property to "bury me on".
Maybe I should just go work at McDonalds. At least I'd be earning an honest buck, and I wouldn't have to worry about being filmed against my will or be buried out next to his wife out in her masoleum.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty