Week Five

Now lads everyone calm down right – but this week I found out what it says on the sign! I know, like. I know.

Monday 2^nd Nov

I went to training tonight determined to find out who Lorenzo was. Had me eyes cocked for him all night. There weren’t many people there so I was scanning the machines for a big fella. And lo – about 6 machines down there he was – a BEAST of a man rowing away. That must be him I say to myself. He gets up and goes out to get some water and he looks at me on the way out but I looked up too late to catch his eye. Shit! Must make up for it on the way back. On his way back in then I was STARING him down like willing him to look at me, lasers shooting out of my eyeballs like. He looked at me anyway and I got that lightning bolt in my belly and I smiled and was like “well boy” And he smiled back at me like he knew me. That must be him Im thinking to myself. But how can I be sure?

I finished up on the machines and went out into the hall and the trainer was there. Come upstairs with me I said so we were going upstairs and halfway up he stopped me and said in an urgent (sexy) whisper “Quick – which one is Ella?” This is it! This is my moment! “Never mind about that, who the fuck is Lorenzo?” And then he was like “Lor..” and someone started coming down the stairs so we were like “yeah lets do some ab work yeah, yeah” ! And we continued on up the stairs. Goddammit!

Tuesday 3^rd Nov

Went down the supermarket today, and all the way down there I was psyching myself up to no end to find out what it says on the sign. I have to keep my public happy like. Lads I was hyped up to the last. SAS in full swing like. I was here like “I’m just going to say, ‘give us a look at that sign’”.

Well lads he must be reading this blog or something, because when I rounded the corner of the footbridge there he was with a NEW sign. A bigger one, written out in stenciled letters and laminated. “Jaysus”, I said to myself , “he means business.” So I went up to him, “Ciao” I says, “give us a look at that sign” (all going according to plan so far), and it says

I am looking for work.

I am a deaf mute.

I have had to leave my country.

My father is dead.

Please help me.

“Jesus Christ” I thought to myself, what a shitty hand to be dealt.

Then I was thinking to myself – deaf and dumb? I could be full sure he said well to me a few times. Funny, that. Must just be me. “Would you fancy an oul pizza boy?” I says, “Ah yeah, missus” he nods. So I did my shoppin and grabbed him pizza and a drink. On the way out anyway I handed it to him. He puts his hand on his heart. “Tell me a bit about yourself” I goes. He looked at me as if I had two tits (new readers see week two). I said “where are you from?”, cos he was a bit too mocha-choca-latta-ya-ya to be Italian like. And he is like lookin all flustered like he cant communicate with me and I say “come on like, lets at least try and talk to each other.” Ok he nods and takes out his phone. Alarm bells are going off. What is he doing with a phone? Then I think shur I am only marginally better off than him and I have one hahah! So we carry out a conversation via typin stuff into our phones. He is from Romania and his name is Valentin. So I went home anyway thinking of places I could find him a nice cushy job. The poor fella like, it’s a hard oul life.

I get home anyway and I’m chatting away to Jac. I tell her I found out what it says on the sign. “Let me guess” she says “Im a deaf mute with a son on another country. Theres a fella with that sign in Waterford.” And I actually thought for a split second- lads I ACTUALLY thought “Jesus that’s some coincidence”.

Now bear in mind I am the most gullible person on the face of the earth. Like one time at home Stewy says to me in the living room “Jen I was just reading there, did you know statistically that 6 out of 7 dwarves aren’t Happy?” And me then “Oh my God, really? That’s terrible!” And he lookin at me then as if to say “oh my god you thick bitch.” Couple that now with me big dopey soft heart and shur I’d fall for any sob story.

So anyway needless to say I am rightly pissed off that Valentin is after playin me for a fool. I mean like I couldn’t buy me cashews cos I bought him lunch instead. And I need them to keep me calories up when I’m training. Well I swear to god, he better HOPE he is actually deaf and dumb. Of course he’s not feckin looking for work. Shur how could he be and he standing there every hour of the day? He knows he will make more money standing there than he would in a proper job. The fucker. He’s prob at home now with the rest of his begging crew and his father, who is very much alive, going “yeah this thick blonde bitch bought me lunch today – boo-ya!”.

This is remindin me of some beggars in particular in Dublin. Like the fella on Westmoreland Street with the gammy leg. And he rolls up his trouser leg to his thigh and waves his leg in your face as you walk past. And the practiced pitiful look on his face like, he gets up in the morning and puts in his puppy dog eyes. “Oh poor me, look at me poor leg it’s upside down and inside out”. And a full head of gold teeth on him. He doesn’t need money like, he needs a Cash4Gold freepost envelope.

Stop lads - I shouldn’t have read the sign. I knew even as I was reading it, that it was a bad idea. Sigh.

Wednesday 4^th Nov

Didn’t go to training tonight as there was a big dinner on in our palazzo. Actually it was more of a banquet – we each dragged our tables out into the corridor so it was one huge long table. It was a good laugh. So before dinner I was chattin to some new people and the fella next door comes over and here the next thing he starts leaning on my shoulder and I was thinking to myself “If he puts his elbow on my head he definitely fancies me” Two seconds later, he put his elbow on my head. Ha! I knew it. Pity he is only 12.

But he surprised me. We were sittin down eatin dinner and he was sittin at the top of the table (of 30 people) holding court there like a fully grown man. I was impressed. And I’m ashamed to say it, but….he was makin me feel a bit giddy. Stop lads. Remember when you were a teenager and every time you saw someone you fancied you get that shock in your stomach? All I needed were the glasses and the braces and I’d be 15 again!

After dinner we all had to stand on the table and walk down it like a catwalk and stand on the end of it and talk about ourselves. Everyone was going up and then the next thing everyone started chanting “Lady Gaga! Lady Gaga!” and here I was , what the fuck are them eejits on about, and here they were on about me. Sorry. Sorry now - Lady Gaga? Since when do I look like Lady Gaga? I can’t help but feel insulted. I must have dropped a pair of balls when I wasn’t lookin like.

Anyway then the next door fella gets up. Now I’d by lying if I said I wasn’t lookin. I was just having a look like, just browsin. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans, a pair of boots and a skin tight polo neck. All of which were having an effect on me. Lads you could tell the time off his pecs. It was ride o clock like. Later on then we were having drinks and he went to walk past me and put his giant hands around my waist and brushed his whole body against me to walk past. And I wouldn’t mind but there were at least three metres between me and the wall. Interesting. Then at some point I felt a twinge in my back. The twinge that tells me someone is standing very close behind me. Infact, their belly is touching my whole back. He was breathing in and out against me. And the next thing he starts off talking in his ridiculous accent, and his voice is trickling down the back of my neck like HONEY. Just be cool, Jen. Act normal like. The girl I was talking to was talking away but I could literally only see her lips move. The room was spinning.

And for a split second, for a split second I actually thought “hmmm I might have a steamy fling with this fella”.

But then I considered the fact that it would entail holding in my farts in front of him, and I said fuck it, its not worth it.

After dinner then we all headed outside and then the fuckin horror began. The “initiations”. All the new residents were made to stand in the grass and sing some song. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on – was the song in some quare dialect or was I just pissed? I may as well have had a teat on the end of the bottle of prosecco I was drinkin it so fast. Me nerves were at me like. Then we had to do the chicken dance around the place. I was laughing along but inside I was like please someone drop an atomic bomb so this can end. Eventually the terror ended and myself and the lads headed to our beds.

Thursday 5^th Nov

God, what was I thinking last night? Me and another fella. As if, like. Imagine someone other than Stewy touchin me. Ewwwwwwwwwwww. I could puke. No, I’d much rather continue on my merry way without some fella draggin out of me annoying me when I’m trying to watch Dexter. Anyway he is only a child. Plus like if I was going to have a bella storia over here I’d go for something a bit more my style. Well I mean I do enjoy a larger gentleman with beauteous carrying-me-around abilities but I’ve always been really into glasses on fellas, more so recently actually.

Head out the door to go to the shopping centre at the exact moment he comes out his door. I’m turning to say well but I only got as far as “w..”.

He was standing there in a trench coat and glasses.

Ah, for fuck sake.

Friday 6^th Nov

Right – this is a serious business. Ray D’Arcy WILL read out an email about this blog thus propelling me to international superstardom. I started up a group on facebook called Ray D’Arcy – You Will Bow To My Whims! to unite my fives and tens of fans in an email onslaught in a bid to get him to read it out. It’s for the good of the nation. God, look at what I have become - a facebook whore. If I wasn’t such a laugh I might consider hating myself.

Saturday 7^th Nov & Sunday 8^th Nov

This weekend was like the number one wasted weekend in the history of the universe. I literally just facebooked all weekend – that’s right, it’s a verb now. It was all rainy and pissy outside and I was longing for home. You know when it’s a really shitty day outside but you’re all snuggly at home with the fire blazing and the cupboard stocked, you can’t bayte it boy.

I’m really looking forward to going home. Every year about this time I start getting really worked up about returning to the motherland. If there was an award for best family Christmas we would totally get it. Like it’s not a Jacques family Christmas, nay, a Jacques family gathering unless someone pisses themselves.

Take last Christmas, for example. It’s my uncle Paddy’s birthday on Christmas day so he was in our house having dinner with us. After dinner then he went in to the sitting room to sit down and we were around the corner in the dining room getting his cake ready. I had a packet of candles where each candle was a letter that spelled out “happy birthday” but in the end there weren’t enough letters so mammy had the bright idea of just putting “B” for birthday. So then my sister’s husband pipes up “What’s the B for?” and Daddy said “B for Bollix”.

B for Bollix like. My father said that. Looking back, that was the indicator of the hilarity to come – Daddy was clearly giddy like.

When we were finished laughing Mammy goes “No, it’s B for Birthday” and the brother-in-law says “Bertie? I thought his name was Paddy!” So that started us all off again.

And then someone was like “Put P for Paddy” so were like yeah that’s nice. And we had the cake all set up and we were in formation ready to march into the sitting room when Daddy pipes “P, lovely – now he’s a prick.”

Well lads.

On the ground I was. The reason why it was so funny is it didn’t have anything to do with Uncle Paddy, who is lovely, but it had everything to do with the fact that Daddy was giddy and wanted to say dirty words.

Anyway then we all got it together and got back into position and we were taking in the breath to sing Happy Birthday when all of a sudden Daddy was like “Take the cake! Take the cake! I cant hold it!" And then he started crying with the laughing and had to get down on his hands and knees, and shur jaysus then that set us all off again.

Needless to say I pissed myself. Don’t judge me now – if you were in our house when we are together you would piss as well. Literally every time, at least one of us pisses themselves. My sister Hazel uses the fact that she just had a baby as an excuse. Yeah yeah.

Anyway we were all rolling around in the dining room with the cake on the dining table with the candle burning down to nothing and here is poor Uncle Paddy sittin in the sitting room, completely oblivious. I don’t know what happens; I think we all get in a giddy mood around Christmas. So anyway then we all had to pick ourselves up and go in “Happy Birthday to you etc..” and the tears rolling down our cheeks and the soggy jeans on me. Good times!

I’d say if my sister Hazel is reading this at her desk she is probably after pissin herself. I’d say there’s not a dry seat in the house like. But it’s not her fault lads! Come on like – she just had a baby!