A diary of one man's utter failure, depression, frustration, cock-ups, and impecuniousness, starting in August 1947
Ah... how I remember Grizelda Baumgarter (last name changed for obvious reasons).
She was 5'11" tall, around 14 stone, lovely long hair, gorgeous wide hips, tree trunk legs... chunky and pear shaped if you like. And I liked!
Now you might ask, how does a 5'2", ten stone bloke (at the time) find such a young lady attractive? - Answer, she was sex mad, liked little men (in all departments), and offered me physical protection when going out with her.
She was a German pen-friend of my mates girlfriend Susan, and came over to visit for a month. I was asked to make up a foursome one night.
It was lust, aphrodisia, and instant arousal at first sight for me! - When Grizzly returned the same feelings and intentions, I could have burst with happiness. (I'm not sure I didn't)
We met every night for the duration of time in Nottingham, often I would steal my way into the bed and breakfast she was staying at overnight.
Such sweet memories.
Spoilt only by our having to part when she returned to Euskirchen, in Deutschland.
The morning of her leaving, we were sat on on the settee, me on her knee, twiddling her underarm hairs, and we dolefully said out farewells, and had one last grapple.
One of the saddest days of my young life.
Exasperated, by her failure to contact me, or answer my many begging letters for another meeting.
I did hear from Susan some years later, that Grizelda had joined the Police Force.
I'm not even sure her real name was Grizelda, cause years later I looked up the origin of the name: 'The medieval tale of "Patient Grissel" or Patient Griselda, is a moral tale intended to show medieval women the virtue of being submissive to their husbands'.
Ogling Kathy can be dangerous to your health!
Some of the staff at Tesco on Goosegate in Nottingham went along in the opening week, to try out the new Bowling Alley, opened just a few hundred yards from the store.
There was about 12 of us, including one named Kathy, who I hoped I would be able to impress with my as yet, untested bowling skills.
As we were jostling together as we sorted out who was to go in which order, she seemed responsive to my verbal approaches.
Maybe thought I, a romance was about to be born?
I was playing around with bowling ball, as she bent down to get into her handbag, offering a flash of stocking top!
As the ambulance-men took me out of the bowling-alley with my broken foot, I noticed Kathy giggling with one of the other lads.
Beatrice was a librarian near a Green-fruit and Wet-fish shop I was managing for the Nottingham Co-operative Society. I was studying part-time for my 'Grocer's Institute Associate level Certificate at the time, and called in the library during my lunch break for information required.
She was buxom, elegant, and well spoken, with legs you could admire from 200 yards and still dribble.
Her Father had been a judge, and her Mother, a Baroness. Yet still she showed interest in me?
She lived on Derby Road, next door to where Roger Moore had once lived.
The so called romance did not get as far as me visiting the house, but the County Hotel in Nottingham next to the Theatre Royal, holds some magnificent memories for me.
I took her for our first meal to the Colwick Hall Hotel, and spent a weeks wages on what she ordered... and ate.
These expensive outings, seemed to ensure our trips to the County Hotel continued. (Thank heavens))
I was at the point of considering having to sell my motorbike if I was to continue with the romance, when she told me her fiancée, and SAS Lieutenant was coming back from tour of duty in Kenya, the following week, so it would be best if we called it a day.
For six months afterwards, I thought of her, each time I received a bill I could not pay, or afford to buy something.