Last night I bounded straight from work to Dalston all excited for the Nadja gig I've been waiting ages for. I was, if anything, too eager, and was an hour early, so I took my girlfriend for a pre-gig pint in the tiny theatre bar next door. Within 5 minutes, she had managed to spill her entire pint on to my crotch and shoes, which everyone in the venue noticed and commented upon to hilarious effect. Honest mistake, you might think, as did I, and she looked sheepish while I was suitably pissed off but admirably restrained given the situation. Then I started racking up the evidence.
At that big, wonderful Efterklang show at the Barbican a while back, another large amount of lager was dumped all over my right thigh just as they were taking the stage. She also managed to spill some beer down my back (?!) at a Part Chimp gig. In the course of some of our meals out I've been victim of assualts by, in no particular order- curry sauce, pasta sauce, blue cheese, crab meat and no small amount of condiments, among others. As we have no dining table, we have to eat from the sofa on a little coffee table thing, and her half of the carpet underneath is just beyond the means of any Vanish product.
I've been punched in the face twice (accidentally), had my lip cut, been hit in the ear with a massive bag, had a table dropped on my foot, and she once (during one of those playfight things people do on adverts) knelt on the skin of my upper arm so hard that it resulted in a massive totally black bruise with a diameter of around 8 inches which lasted a couple of weeks. We've been together two and a half years, and I'm only giving you a few examples I can remember.
I also end up taking over the cooking of every meal when she just seems to wander off part way through. Once, as an experiment, I decided not to step in, which resulted, predictably, in a fucked meal. She can cook, I think, but she seems to have no need for such frivolities as stirring or checking stuff.
Now, these aren't complaints as such, she's a terrific gal and all, although it has led me to wonder whether I'm living with a sitcom character. Point is, are you allowed to be pissed off at people for being clumsy if they say it's 'in their nature'? Are people REALLY just innately clumsy, or is it a lack of spacial awareness that could be rectified if people just paid some goshdarn attention to what the fuck they're doing? And does anyone else live with a loved one who you think might possibly be trying to kill you?