The Emancipation of Dolores McCrumble

Sunday, June 18, 2006

'May Ball' Bust Up

I don't know what was wrong with me yesterday, perhaps I'd at some point during the day stumbled over a bad Ley line or something, whatever it was, I was in a foul mood. I was definitely not feeling particularly ha ha hee hee and certainly not feeling like tripping the light fandango at village language school's annual May Ball. Joseph loves the May Ball, largely because he likes to reclaim the price of the ticket by guzzling as much euro beer at the bar and ogling the "lovely ladies" in their clevage enhancing dresses. Anyway, I was decidedly maudlin throughout the evening. I was feeling fat, frumpy and middle aged and generally rather tired. There was a distinct lack of seating which meant I had to stand in agony in my strappy sandals waiting for Bucks Phizz (Joseph's favourite Bucks Fizz tribute band) to come on stage. They were due on at 1am but didn't manage to get on stage until 1.40am due to the "Cheryl Baker" woman having squirted herself in the eye with some industrial strength hairspray. I stood wall-flower-esque at the side of the dancefloor watching Joseph "strutting his funky stuff" (as he likes to put it) to all the band's glorious hits of the early 80s. By 2.45am I'd pretty much lost the will to live but was biting my lip and allowing Joseph to enjoy his annual 'letting his hair down.' Somehow, through the lager fog that was now clouding his brain Joseph realised that I wasn't having a particularly good time and asked me if I wanted to leave. Naturally I had said we left....Anyway, by the time we'd walked from the marquee, across two fields full of cow pats (not fun to stand in when wearing strappy sandals as I discovered) and back to the car Joseph was ranting about how I'd spoiled his 'one evening a year when I can let myself go' and how I was a kill joy etc etc etc. Well, I saw red and wasn't prepared to sit there and take his irrationality. So, I started to fire back. The whole thing escalated into a full-blown argument, Joseph's arms were flailing about (thankfully the car is quite roomy) trying to emphasise his "point" I was in floods of tears trying to prize my strappy sandals off my feet and groping around under the car seat for my sensible shoes whilst my nose was running down my top lip. After a few seconds I'd realised that our argument had turned into a soliloquy. I stopped and looked at Joseph. He was looking past me at something on my side of the car, I followed his gaze and to my astonishment, there was a girl, probably in her early 20s naked except for a black g-string. At first I thought she was sleep walking but then I realised that she was actually trying to discretely (ha ha) creep away from something. I was about to put the car into reverse, having dismissed the girl as a drunken language student floozy and head on home. Joseph pulled the handbrake on and fell out of the car mumbling something like "I must help her, poor wee lass." I turned the engine off and Joseph stumbled around to the boot of the car, after a few seconds ferreting through wellington boots, shooting sticks and car breakdown kits he had found his 'field jacket' (a pac-a-mac to you and I) and headed over towards the girl. Lacking the fine motor skills that he would usually posess Joseph made a clumsy attempt of handing the jacket to the girl. He more or less threw himself (plus jacket) onto the girl and fell on top of her (Benny Hill style - I would've expected greater comedic orginality from Joseph). As our car has tinted windows she hadn't seen that I was with him and thought that Joseph was some kind of, well, dirty old man with wicked intentions. There was an almighty struggle as she tried to free herself from Joseph and his field jacket. She managed to stand up and she gave him a couple of mighty good kicks (for a bare footed slender girl she's left Joseph with some wonderful bruises). Anyway, Joseph hobbled his way back to the car and had (thankfully) forgotten our row and was now suffering from acute paranoia that he's going to be branded a 'pervert' and that he's tarnished his reputation. This went on all the way home. I was feeling a little vindictive so subtly fueled his paranoia by saying things like "well, it did look very compromising" and "a group of people walked past and saw the whole thing." Needless to say, today he has been rather subdued.


  • At 4:07 PM, Blogger Nikki said…


    You are a bit wicked putting fuel on the fire of his paranoia. GOOD JOB.

  • At 4:11 PM, Blogger Nikki said…

    On second thought, it sounds like he deserved it. He shouldn't have made you cry.

  • At 8:33 AM, Blogger Dolores McCrumble said…

    Thanks Nikki, great to have a bit of womens solidarity!

  • At 7:37 AM, Blogger Charlie said…

    To both Joseph and Delores (or Delores and Joseph):

    I have read both accounts of the May Ball in June, and while I note some discrepancies, I shall not express an opinion.

    I refuse to be the instigator of what could become yet another international incident.

    All I will say is that I hope the June Ball in July goes much better.

  • At 10:10 AM, Blogger Le Pew said…

    Hilarious! :-)

  • At 1:48 PM, Blogger Sam, Problem-Child-Bride said…

    I, like the sage Admiral Pooper, reserve comment on disputes 'twixt husband and wife.

    I am intrigued as to where this naked girl came from. And where was she going? Is this usual in Cumbernauld? Wasn't it cold?


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