3. Boyfriend Out - Footballer In!

It's the morning after my weird night in Tiger Tiger. I've had NO sleep and have a huge hangover. You know when you know you've drunk too much and you're on your way home and all you want to do is lay down and be totally still? You want it more than anything but HAVE to brush your teeth and at least attempt to take some of your make up off to avoid looking like a hooker the next morning. The MOMENT I got into bed what happens? A FIRE ALARM! Someone had SET LIGHT to the Travelodge - the damned carnies! We were all evacuated and had to stand in the freezing North East air in February at about 4am. I wasn't best pleased.

All this had happened and it was the day to go home - what better to cheer me up than an anonymous text?! 'Morning Sexy' from a totally random number - one of those ones you have to buy because it's such a recognisible number. Was it Patrick? I replied and asked who it was - the reply came and sent me into shock. It was the name of one of the footballers! (We'll call him The Footballer) It slowly all dawned on me - I had been snared! Patrick was talking to me all night because The Footballer had told him to get my number - I couldn't believe it. I felt so stupid, so used, so..... GREAT!

Why hadn't The Footballer come over and spoken to me himself? Oh hang on I think he had tried but I was busy with Patrick... maybe Patrick really had liked me but had to give me up to The Footballer - that doesn't seem fair. Maybe that's his job - the whole thing was so seamless and fooled me - how many girls does he do this to? The Footballer must have a big... ego to assume they will all fall at his feet the moment he texts them. I fell. Hard.

It all started out like some crazy made-for-tv Channel 5 film - a young girl goes out and meets a famous man, HE tracks HER down - he is texting and calling her ALL DAY (literally it was a 7 hour journey home and I didn't get bored once!) - it's all a bit surreal. Why is he texting ME? Little old me... ok so I do have a pretty good bum I am always told - and I DO have 33" legs... hmmm, maybe I could pull this off!

I get home and everything is back to normal - except for a tiny problem called The Boyfriend. I had wanted to dump him for several months. Every time I mentioned it he did something to make me feel bad. The latest guilt trip was buying me a car. Maybe I should carry on... NO! It's cruel and it's wrong.

I cared about him and everything as we had spent a lot of time together but seriously, it was like having sex with your brother (not that I have one or have ever experienced that - hello - I'm not from Illinois!) - so I simply didn't anymore much to his annoyance! When I got back he happened to be snooping through my phone (snoopers never prosper - apart from Snoop Dog) and found all the texts. He demanded I delete his number and all the texts - it was either him or The Footballer. Halleighjuliah Praise The Lord! My decision was made easy - although I had cared about The Boyfriend once I had never felt anything like this! Receiving every text was electric - it may have just been that radiation you get that makes the radio go funny, but I liked it, and there was NO WAY I was going to give this up. And so The Boyfriend was no more.