A Saturday night at my house

July 21, 2008 at 10:01 am (Giant Babies, Nigel, personal)

Two weeks ago one of my closest friends had his 21st party. This coincided with Nigel having a week off so it seemed perfect. Nigel is a baker, you understand, so he always has to start work anytime between 1 and 4am. Going out is not often an option for him. This is how our day/night went:

First, I needed to make brownies and a birthday cake and I asked for help. Silly me. He went to the store so I could start the brownies. Even with a detailed shopping list he still called me three times to clarify things because he’s just not capable of shopping on his own. I honestly do not remember the last time he went shopping on his own and didn’t call me at least twice whilst there. For someone who is 23 years old, this is actually quite concerning.

Then when he got home, I needed his help to make things. All he could do was ask me stupid questions about what he was doing. He had the same access to the recipe that I had, it was lying on the bench, and he wasn’t able to look for himself, he needed me to do it for him. Did you notice the part earlier where I mentioned that he’s a BAKER?! Perfectly competent baker, and yet he can’t do something as simple as read a recipe? *sighs*

The next drama came when it was time to get dressed. Nigel is actually pretty useless at picking out his own outfits, and if I refuse to do this, he will just sulk and sit in the corner until I give in or go without him. This party was Halloween themed, and none of the suggestions I made were good enough for him. He wanted to get a chainsaw and be some stupid character from some stupid b grade film he loves. We don’t have a chainsaw and he would have had to borrow one from his family. The problems there will be contained in another post.

After I blew up at him about his sulking and pouting and being generally unhelpful, he walked out of the house. I assumed he’d gone to get the chainsaw because I’d given in. After half an hour I was livid. We were running late and he’d disappeared for half an hour to get a stupid thing for his stupid costume. Except when I went to his parents house, he wasn’t there and they hadn’t seen him all night. He had his keys with him and there was no petrol in my car, so I couldn’t even go without him. Finally in desperation I called his name out whilst in our backyard, and then he came wandering out of his grandmother’s backyard where he’d been sitting for almost an hour playing with my cat.

It’s two weeks later and he still doesn’t understand why I’m so angry at him and how out of line his behaviour was throughout the entire day/night. In the car I told him he had to sms his mother so that she wouldn’t worry. He didn’t do it and eventually I gave in and did it.

This relationship makes me more bitter than most other things in the world.

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