I'm Still Feeling Embarrassed

“This book contains a lot of "bad" words. So if you are easily offended, go **** yourself.” Oliver Markus

The following events take place in London on the night of 9th November 2016 and the following morning.

9th November, 2340 GMT

WIFEY: So, another all-nighter then? You know you wanna be there when your girlfriend is sworn in.

ME: Hahaha, stop making jokes hun, you’ll starting to look like one.’Nope. Seriously babe I can’t be arsed.

WIFEY: Come on mate; you’re bloody obsessed and you haven’t slept for months.

ME: That’s an exaggeration…

WIFEY: No, it’s not. And then I’ve gotta deal with you the next day which is sooo much fun. You’re like someone who had the misery of partying all night without any of the satisfaction.

ME: Good one. And yeah, I know I’ve said I’m not interested loads of times for months and then done an all-nighter but I can’t do it. I’m not staying up to watch him win. And then to listen to Cory Lewandoski gloat the little ****tard would –

WIFEY: Okay, chill babes. You’re right, go to bed if you’re this wound up now! Just a bit surprised you’re not gonna see it through to the end. Damn, you really think he’ll win?

ME: (sighing).Yeah hun, I do. Actually, they couldn’t could they, he’s – yeah, I think he’ll win. People are ****ing idiots.

WIFEY: You joker

10th November, 0640 - 0750 GMT

Wifey was already awake, shouting a repeated instruction to our 12 year-old. Shouting and constant repetition seems the only way to get him to acknowledge us unless it’s to do with his favourite meal or Pokemon Go. I look at the TV and notice John Podestra telling the people at Democrat HQ to go home. And I notice CNN’s electoral map in the background looking pretty red.

WIFEY: Morning babe

ME: Morning hun. **** me, he’s really gonna win. I can’t ****ing believe it.

WIFEY: You called it. So actually this is kind of your fault…..

ME: (disbelievingly) I can’t believe they did it. I feel like Charlton ****ing Heston in Planet of The Apes. God must love stupid people. He made soooo ****ing many. And that’s just counting the Brexiters and these twats.

Wifey is just laughing at this point. I’m just hoping that she’s laughing with me more than at me.

ME: (almost to myself) They did it for real. ****. They’re happy to have a pussy grabbing president.

I go to our son’s room at this point to wish him good morning and to make sure he’s getting himself together to get to school. Part of me hopes he’s pissing about so I’ve got someone to shout at to release some of the angst I feel growing with every passing moment. Of course he’s doing everything perfectly so after 5 minutes I sullenly leave his room and go back to the living room.

WIFEY: Right, the domain name’s there. I think you should buy it.

ME: What?

WIFEY: Pussygrabbingpresident.com is available as a domain name with Go Daddy. I think you should get it. I told you to to do 100 days of Trump before the election and you didn’t so this –

ME: (Interrupting) You’re right babe. You ‘re right and I keep farting about with this blogging and I've been slack; I’m on it.

WIFEY: I know I’m right so do something about it.

Muttering, I proceed to go through the online registration with Go Daddy. However, at the final stage something freezes and I can’t proceed. My son leaves for school. The online help at Go Daddy is increasing my rage exponentially. I tell Wifey that I’m just going to call Go Daddy’s customer service and complete the registration that way. I think she wishes we good luck but as she’s got a mouth full of toothpaste, is running slightly behind schedule and has clearly run out of patience with me she could just as likely be telling me to **** off. Women. They may not hit harder but they sure hit lower.

GD: Hello, this is _____ from Go Daddy and I’ll be supporting you today. Who am I having the pleasure of talking to today?

ME: (I’m immediately taken aback by her sunny disposition because let’s face it, I’m British and we don’t do customer service well. Plus she’s American) Oh me. I’m errr, I’m good I think. I mean I’m okay. A bit confused at what’s going on in your country if I’m being honest.

GD: Oh, I know, can you believe it. It’s crazy, right?

ME: Kind of looks that way. But look, at least you didn’t vote to leave a continent so I can’t point any fingers

GD: hahaha. That’s very generous of you. So how can I help?

I proceed to explain the process I’d undertaken to that point. She takes the email I’d used to register and decides to expedite the process by completing it for me. As grateful as I am, after the earlier condescending tolerance of my beloved I’m feeling like the ladies I’ve spoken to today don’t trust me to let my mind wonder because they think it’s too small to be out on its own. To displace this embarrassment I engage in small talk.

ME: So who did you vote for? Am I allowed to ask that?

GD: Oh yes. It’s no secret. I voted for Hillary. It would’ve been nice to have a lady president and all but really it was about the policies she had.

ME: You’re being awfully calm and generous. I mean come on, your new president said some pretty, errr, interesting things.

GD: hahaha. Yes, he certainly did.

ME: So where are you

GD: Where we? At Go Daddy….oh, which state? Arizona.

ME: That’s a shame. Well, as I said, we forever lost the right to look down our noses at you after our drunken Brexit night on the town.

GD: I guess we’re all in it together (She laughs). So, what was the domain name you wanted to register.

And it immediately dawns on me that I will have to say the word ‘pussy’ to a pleasant young American woman on the very day the Orange Narcissus ascended to power.

ME: Oh, it’s um, well it’s a kind of play on wor….no, it’s a errr, a……you know?

GD: I’m not sure. Is it hard to spell

ME: No. Well yes actually. But not hard, it’s just the meaning behind the word that you have to spell which makes the word hard to spell. See what I mean?

GD: Sorry sir, I don’t.

ME: Okay, look. The site is about poking fun at the situation we find ourselves in. I say if you can stay calm when all around you is chaos then you probably haven’t completely understood the situation. So, I wanted a name that symbolised that.

GD: (she’s laughing. I hope with me, but I suspect, at me) Okay. So what’s the name?

ME: (I’m mumbling now) It’s pussy grabbing president dot com

GD: Pardon?

ME: (Still mumbling, but less so) It’s pussy grabbing president dot com

GD: Still not clear sir.

ME: (A little too loudly) It’s pussy grabbing president dot com

GD: Okay. Pussy grabbing president dot com.

ME: Yeah

Silence

GD: I like it. That’s very funny (she sounds genuine).

ME: Thanks _______. After all, your president says it’s okay to talk like you're in a perverted locker room.

Silence. I realise at that point this experience could ruin both our days. I suddenly feel like experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.

ME: But at least his hands are too small to press the button. Or create a shadow puppet. And they’re the perfect size for a 14 year old girl.

GD: Ha – that’s true (she laughs). They are small.

ME: So is his mind I said. We’re all gonna be fine.

GD: Yeah. So that was pussy grabbing president dot com

ME: Oh, it’s um, well it’s a kind of play on wor….no, it’s a errr, a….

Anyway, that’s how this blog started. Turns out saying the word pussy to a decent, normal human being can still make you feel like a 5 year old saying ‘pooh’ for the first time. But I'm trying not to feel embarrassed. After all the tangerine president say’s it’s cool. And he knows the best words.