Jerome Trenton, Imaginative Extraordinaire
November 22, 2012 in Uncategorized
As the months passed, the hurt from being tossed aside like yesterday’s mouldy sandwich by Peter, subsided a bit. I’d shed almost 11 Kg in 3 months, and believe me, I ate like a horse. Stress has a funny way of impacting on the body.
In June I received an enquiry at work from a chap called Jerome Trenton, based in the Southern Suburbs of Cape Town. I didn’t remember anything he’d asked when I put down the phone, but I did remember his absolutely amazing voice. Fortunately my admin-brain was savvy enough to get his number to return his call, as well as his email address.
I phoned back under a ruse of needing more information from him about his enquiry and soon after that I was very forward and mailed him from my personal email address to tell him that I thought he had a nice voice, and that when he did finally come to my home town, I wouldn’t mind going for a coffee. He said he’d love to, and every day after that I’d received an email, or a phone call and quite a few photos. He wasn’t bad on the eyes either…
It turned out that he would only be able to pay us a visit in November, so I decided that for my 21st birthday in September, I would go to Cape Town to meet him. I took my best friend, Elisha, along for back-up. We went out for drinks at a local haunt, and a friend of Elisha’s, Andy joined us, and she went home with him, leaving me with Jerome. We went back to the house he shared with his parents (the warning bells should have already been ringing…34 year old (again a man more than a decade my senior (pattern??))Capetonian man, driving his father’s car, living with his parents…) and spent the night looking at photos. He treated me like a lady, only holding my hand. Eventually at something-to-four in the morning, he showed me to my room, made sure I was comfortable and then went to retire in the lounge, on the couch.
That morning I woke up, only to be told by his mother that he’d gone fishing with friends. I thanked her for her hospitality and headed off to the other side of the peninsula to find Elisha and Andy, but not before stopping in at Peter Del Mare’s sister on the way. She told me that he had taken our break up hard, and that Lynette had just been a passing fancy. I didn’t even pretend to care. My heart was slowly softening towards Jerome.
When I’d finally met up with Elisha and Andy, I heard we were going further up the coast to visit her brother. She told me to ask Jerome to join us – the sparkle in my eye was evident. He jumped at the chance.
I don’t remember much of the night quite honestly. Elisha’s brother ensured that I knew I’d turned 21 by getting me roped into a drinking game. Elisha still has photos that she could blackmail me with. Apparently Jerome wasn’t much help in putting me to bed, but he was happy to help himself to Elisha’s boobs. She only told me this after I broke up with him. She told me that if she had told me when it happened, I wouldn’t believe her, and she was right.
I heard from him every day since we met, and he visited a few times, but every time he came down, it was with the bus. Every time I went to Cape Town, it was with my car. We hardly ever went out anywhere – there was always a reason that we’d end up staying in. Still, this man treated me well, so I should have been happy. Three months into the relationship, I realized something was amiss when I was sitting on his lap while he was mailing a friend – He told his friend that his g/f was sitting on his lap (true), in a hotel room in Thailand (seriously!?) – we were apparently holidaying there…at the time I found it odd, but I didn’t say anything.
About six months after this specific incident, he was visiting here and I’d popped into Elisha’s workplace to drop something off and we got chatting. About 10 minutes later Jerome stormed in and told me that he was tired of sitting in the hot car and that he was going to walk home, and out the door he stalked. Naturally, I ran after him, pleading with him to get into the car, but he stubbornly refused, so I drove out of sight and waited. Elisha had a lot to say about his behaviour, but as was the case with Peter, I justified it. After all, if I hadn’t been yapping to her, he wouldn’t have lost his temper…
He didn’t apologise. He got into the car eventually and we went home. My mother has strict rules about sleeping together in her home, so he slept on the couch and I in my room. The morning after the incident above, our neighbour popped in rather early to find out something from my mom, and Jerome got his boxers in a twist, “damn stupid visitors at nine in the morning…” I will say this much – I am very quick to get on my high horse and immediately my mom noticed the change in my demeanour. She asked what was up and I told her, and she took Jerome on. Now would be a good time to mention that my mom is a little over 5 feet tall and Jerome was over six… she told him quite plainly that in her house things are done a certain way and if he didn’t like it, he could take his sorry ass to the bus stop and go home. He very quickly calmed down, apologised and behaved like a meek lamb.
In an attempt to curry favour with my parents, he proposed to take them out to dinner at an upmarket place. We all had a hearty dinner, and the tension was something of the past…until the bill arrived… Jerome gave the waiter his debit card, which “there was a problem with”, and so my dad settled the bill, telling Jerome we could stop at the bank and he could simply draw the cash to give back. It turned out I had to pester him for a week to get the money out of him.
I eventually came to my senses a year-to-the-day and broke it off with him. I couldn’t handle his constant pipe-dreams (the next deal is going to be the one…) and his mother couldn’t stand me either…
Turns out I’d only seen the tip of the iceberg. The man lived in a complete dream world… Walter Mitty had nothing on Jerome Trenton…