A Drunken Irishman
Without Prejudice
I was with Nifty Nev for at least ten years. When we first met I was 42 and divorced, he had just turned 30. We met at Molly Blooms in Port Melbourne one sober Sunday afternoon. I was in the mood to celebrate as a new baby to my daughter Yvette had just been born. NN was there on his 5th day of arriving home from Dublin. He hadn't been home to his home in Caulfield which he shared with his girlfriend, yet. He had gone on a bender straight from the airport.
We had seen him dancing around earlier and my foster daughter looked at him and sniffed,
"What a drunk"
He made his way over to me when my party of 2 moved to a drinkers table and I was sat all by myself sipping water and feeling bored. He plonked himself into a chair next to mine and started talking and talking and I realised he was very very drunk and he was very very intelligent.
Thus began a romance that was not supposed to happen and yet it did. He was funny and he was irreverent and he was wordy. I fell in love with his words and he fell in love with me for the same. I took him home and we made love all night and the next day I dropped him off at the Train Station in Glen Waverley. I fully expected to not hear from him again as I hadn't given him a phone number. But he looked me up and rang and rang and rang.
I knew he had a girlfriend and I wasn't going down that road. But in the end he told her he had met me and she sent me a hate letter and told me to find someone my own age. We tripped the light fantastic once he was free and clear of her. He did the right thing and he always spoke well of her. He played Soccer for South Yarra Soccer Club and said it had saved his life when he first came out from Ireland in May 1989.
The training and the discipline and his longing to play kept him straightened up in the end. I did too but it was a big ask. I didn't trust men and he did manage to make me trust them again. He was affectionate and adoring and I lapped it all up. We moved in together after 10 months of first meeting. I gave him time to get over his girlfriend as he had loved her and she had been very good to him.
She and her Family had helped him become a citizen of Australia and he was always grateful for that. I liked that about him that he always spoke of his ex V, with the highest regard. He said he had been unfaithful to her many times and he felt bad about that. As he knew she loved him. But he never wanted to marry or have kids as he said he wasn't responsible enough.
He loved to drink, he lived to drink, his drinking was legendary. He turned from a man that couldn't say boo to a goose into his evil twin brother, who I dubbed Tommy. Tommy was his alter ego, a shameless, reckless extrovert that liked to strip off all his clothes in Public. There was no stopping him when he was in his cups, or glasses anyway. He could drink like no other person I had ever seen. He was Brendan Behan on wheels and then some. He was Oliver Reed, Richard Harris, Richard Burton all at once. He did imitations of Michael Caine, Sean Connery, Taggart, he sang and he danced badly (Robot movements)
He thought he was top shit at it. And when he was sober he was bookish, nerdy and quiet. He was a fantastic lover, loved sex all the time. I couldn't bend over when he was around or I would be hugged from behind and kissed on the neck. He was aroused once when he saw me putting mascara on. he was a prodigious lover, drunk or sober. He loved to watch me. He hung off my every word as if they were pearls and diamonds falling from my lips. He called me the darling and his ex V, the ex darling.
I made him get his licence as he didn't have one. I made him get a permanent job , ditto. I bought his clothes and trimmed his nose hairs. I bought him books and music he had professed love for and ditto. He bought me an engagement ring and asked me to marry him and I said, maybe, but knew I wouldn't. He was everything I wanted in a man, except for the drink. I couldn't stand the drink.
When he was sober he was just so different and each time he went on a binge he let me down. My daughter had one the same and we went to Al Anon together, NN and I went to AA together. he tried Antabuse and Anti Depressants. He tired cold turkey and aversion therapy. he tired being in a Psych Hospital for 10 weeks and he could not stop. The drink by then was too much a part of his persona. Nothing was going to stop it.
When he was there he was either sick, working, coming down or going up. He brought home people. Strangers, he had been drinking with. He had girls numbers tucked in his pockets and wads of cash. He would give me anything I wanted and yet he couldn't give me what I craved. sobriety. He was honest about it in the end, he said.
"Don't ask me to give up the drink"
And that freed me, freed me from loving him, freed me from frustration, freed me from trying to stop him, trying to help him. I watch the American shoes on TV, Intervention et al and I wonder if I gave up too easily, too quickly but I know I didn't. NN liked to drink, loved to drink, wanted to drink and I didn't want any of those things. So we parted, quite amicably as it turned out. NN was not a crazy man like my ex husband, he had no hatred nor mistrust of women. And I heard he's married, now. And that would suit NN just fine.
Love The Ex Darling, Janette
I was with Nifty Nev for at least ten years. When we first met I was 42 and divorced, he had just turned 30. We met at Molly Blooms in Port Melbourne one sober Sunday afternoon. I was in the mood to celebrate as a new baby to my daughter Yvette had just been born. NN was there on his 5th day of arriving home from Dublin. He hadn't been home to his home in Caulfield which he shared with his girlfriend, yet. He had gone on a bender straight from the airport.
We had seen him dancing around earlier and my foster daughter looked at him and sniffed,
"What a drunk"
He made his way over to me when my party of 2 moved to a drinkers table and I was sat all by myself sipping water and feeling bored. He plonked himself into a chair next to mine and started talking and talking and I realised he was very very drunk and he was very very intelligent.
Thus began a romance that was not supposed to happen and yet it did. He was funny and he was irreverent and he was wordy. I fell in love with his words and he fell in love with me for the same. I took him home and we made love all night and the next day I dropped him off at the Train Station in Glen Waverley. I fully expected to not hear from him again as I hadn't given him a phone number. But he looked me up and rang and rang and rang.
I knew he had a girlfriend and I wasn't going down that road. But in the end he told her he had met me and she sent me a hate letter and told me to find someone my own age. We tripped the light fantastic once he was free and clear of her. He did the right thing and he always spoke well of her. He played Soccer for South Yarra Soccer Club and said it had saved his life when he first came out from Ireland in May 1989.
The training and the discipline and his longing to play kept him straightened up in the end. I did too but it was a big ask. I didn't trust men and he did manage to make me trust them again. He was affectionate and adoring and I lapped it all up. We moved in together after 10 months of first meeting. I gave him time to get over his girlfriend as he had loved her and she had been very good to him.
She and her Family had helped him become a citizen of Australia and he was always grateful for that. I liked that about him that he always spoke of his ex V, with the highest regard. He said he had been unfaithful to her many times and he felt bad about that. As he knew she loved him. But he never wanted to marry or have kids as he said he wasn't responsible enough.
He loved to drink, he lived to drink, his drinking was legendary. He turned from a man that couldn't say boo to a goose into his evil twin brother, who I dubbed Tommy. Tommy was his alter ego, a shameless, reckless extrovert that liked to strip off all his clothes in Public. There was no stopping him when he was in his cups, or glasses anyway. He could drink like no other person I had ever seen. He was Brendan Behan on wheels and then some. He was Oliver Reed, Richard Harris, Richard Burton all at once. He did imitations of Michael Caine, Sean Connery, Taggart, he sang and he danced badly (Robot movements)
He thought he was top shit at it. And when he was sober he was bookish, nerdy and quiet. He was a fantastic lover, loved sex all the time. I couldn't bend over when he was around or I would be hugged from behind and kissed on the neck. He was aroused once when he saw me putting mascara on. he was a prodigious lover, drunk or sober. He loved to watch me. He hung off my every word as if they were pearls and diamonds falling from my lips. He called me the darling and his ex V, the ex darling.
I made him get his licence as he didn't have one. I made him get a permanent job , ditto. I bought his clothes and trimmed his nose hairs. I bought him books and music he had professed love for and ditto. He bought me an engagement ring and asked me to marry him and I said, maybe, but knew I wouldn't. He was everything I wanted in a man, except for the drink. I couldn't stand the drink.
When he was sober he was just so different and each time he went on a binge he let me down. My daughter had one the same and we went to Al Anon together, NN and I went to AA together. he tried Antabuse and Anti Depressants. He tired cold turkey and aversion therapy. he tired being in a Psych Hospital for 10 weeks and he could not stop. The drink by then was too much a part of his persona. Nothing was going to stop it.
When he was there he was either sick, working, coming down or going up. He brought home people. Strangers, he had been drinking with. He had girls numbers tucked in his pockets and wads of cash. He would give me anything I wanted and yet he couldn't give me what I craved. sobriety. He was honest about it in the end, he said.
"Don't ask me to give up the drink"
And that freed me, freed me from loving him, freed me from frustration, freed me from trying to stop him, trying to help him. I watch the American shoes on TV, Intervention et al and I wonder if I gave up too easily, too quickly but I know I didn't. NN liked to drink, loved to drink, wanted to drink and I didn't want any of those things. So we parted, quite amicably as it turned out. NN was not a crazy man like my ex husband, he had no hatred nor mistrust of women. And I heard he's married, now. And that would suit NN just fine.
Love The Ex Darling, Janette
