Angry Alan and his Penis

I have a picture of a penis. On my mobile phone. It was sent to me. By a man. He was annoyed. I should explain.

Today I went to meet a man for a coffee / chat at a hotel just outside of a Barnsley. That's about a 40 minute drive for me. No problem. I had chatted to him on the dog (and bone) and he had text me a few times. Seemed okay. Company director (so - bit smart - fair assumption?) drives racing cars in his spare time (better than fishing or football?)...seemed like an okay kind of guy. I don't ever discount people on the basis of their picture or their size - or any other physical attribute (maybe I should).

Today it was chilly. Not really sitting outside weather. Brrrrr.....

I arrived - went inside the lobby area of the hotel - had a quick butchers - couldn't see anybody even slightly resembling my date. (You have to look carefully sometimes because - believe it or not - dear reader - that Camera can and does lie!). No sign of our Alan.

I phoned him - he told me he was sitting outside. With his Dog. Therefore if I wanted to join him for a drink I would have to go and sit outside too. And that is exactly what he said and how he said it.

I thought that was a bit rude. At no point during our communication regarding arrangements did he say that he was bringing his dog. I like dogs. Perhaps we could have gone for a walk with his dog. Would have been great. I feel that he should have told me he wanted to sit outside with his dog - and then maybe I could have brought a jacket to keep out the autumn chill. As far as I was concerned we were meeting at the hotel for coffee and chat. Now - maybe I'm a bit dumb - but that would suggest (up here in the frozen North - halfway through October) being inside???

Just to clarify - I do log fires and cozy. I do soft sofas and cushions. I do fluffy carpets. I do ambient soft lighting (wrinkles?) I do waiters wearing waistcoats bearing trays filled with hot rich coffee. I do delicacies flown in from around the world for my enjoyment.

I don't do damp benches. I don't do drizzle. I don't do walking ankle deep in wet grass in my high heels (I have walking boots for that) I don't do chubby men with a pint of lager in a crappy beer garden at 3pm on a Thursday at the side of the M1 Motorway - breathing diesel fumes and listening to the sirens of the traffic cops desperately trying to get their moment of fame on next week's episode of 'Police..Stop...Action'. I don't do men who are more concerned about their friggin dog than my levels of comfort. Period. (I do do those - but that's a whole other story)

So I said.....'Oh lovely. Perhaps you could pop the dog in the car and we could go inside for a drink...where it's warm - because I didn't bring a coat'.

His reply is really unrepeatable....but it contained the words....'silly'...'bitch'...'my'...'dog'...'is'...'worth'....'over'...'five'...'hundred'....'quid'...'and'...'I'm'....'not'....

.....'leaving'...'it'......'in'....'the'....'car'.

At this point I figured it was best to just leave. Our first date wasn't going well, and being a smartish kind of girl I couldn't really see it getting any better. So I got in my car - started the engine and drove off. 

Then he sent me a text.

'Totally silly cow...I hope you like Pizza' (Couldn't really see any relevance to anything in that comment - but hey ho!)

Then he sent me a voicemail.

'Call me back immediately'

Then another...

'Look you stupid woman...we were only meeting for a drink...are you some kind of mad bitch?....I was sitting outside with my dog because my dog is worth a fortune...and quite frankly I'm not going to leave it in the car in a shit-hole like Sheffield...and you strut past me with your fat arse ...dressed in black as if you're going to a funeral...and get in your car and leave....How dare you...nobody ever walks away from me...'

Then another....

' I have driven over twenty miles to come and meet you today and I want you to refund my petrol money'

Then another....

'Call me back now you stupid bitch... I demand an apology...'

What a lovely guy. By now I was about halfway home and how I got there without crashing I will never know. I was laughing so much there were tears running down my face.

My phone went ding to let me know I had another text. It was a picture text. Of a penis. (Size - small)

Then it went again - it was another picture - this time of a Lady's parts!

Editor's note...No matter how old or experienced I get I cannot fathom why or how anybody would ever send pictures of sexual organs via a mobile phone. Footballers do it. Enough said.

So - Dear Gentleman Caller (aka Alan) - I won't be returning your call - I won't be returning your texts - and I'm glad that I didn't stay to meet you and your valuable dog - because you are without doubt the most arrogant pigheaded man I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. I was however highly amused by your communications and I have to say that looking at the the picture.. your willy is tiny ...no wonder you're such an angry sausage:)

And by the way - I don't 'strut' , my arse is a fine shape and size...and I look great in black.

Lots of Love XX

Note to readers : If you want to see Angry Alan's tenny weeny Penis I am happy to forward the picture on to you for a fee of £5. It's not worth more than that :)....and I am happy to let anybody who wants to - listen to his charming and cleverly worded voicemail messages :)