If there is one thing that Madame Boodwah believes in this life, it’s this; no matter the shituation, everything will work out okay. Even if things don’t work out the way we would have liked and even if we can’t see it at the time in the long term it’s for our own good.
In the midst of a sweltering Australian summer in 2004 Madame Boodwah’s BFF Miss Doodwah returned from Paris after living there for 2 years (she wanted to be closer to her family).
Moving home to a one horse town was a struggle for her. Actually, it was more like trying to ski uphill in a town with no hills… or snow.
After 6 months with no men and no culture, things were beginning to wear a bit thin with Miss Doodwah, and she began toying with the idea of moving back to Paris, but her luck was about to change!
That evening Miss Doodwah was dragged out for her 10th hens night of the year when she noticed a tall, dark and handsome stranger, sporting a blue and green tartan kilt, trying to make eyes with her from across the dance floor. She gave a little smile back. He grooved his way over to her, while trying to avoid the array of dance floor smut.
‘Hello there, I’m the Hot Scot’ said the man with the Scottish accent.
Miss Doodwah smiled, “I’m Miss Doodwah” she said, ever so seductively as she took a sip of her martini - shaken not stirred of course! Yes, Miss Doodwah was very particular about how she liked things done but that’s what made her such a great architect. ‘Finally someone who hasn’t fucked my 2nd cousin, been out with my friend or is related to me’, she thought.
He asked for her number and what followed was a series of romantic dates during which she fell head over heels for him and love was swell.
As the next 6 months passed she forgot she was living in a one horse town. The Hot Scot was her knight in shining amour and even though at times she did miss her Parisian lifestyle, life was becoming more bearable.
Until one day when she got a phone call from her old company in Paris with an amazing job offer that would give her sponsorship with a big salary increase. Her heart was torn – on the one hand she had met the man of her dreams, who took her away from the monotony of the everyday life in a one horse town, on the other the golden ticket to Paris where her days of superb champagne, cheese and chocolate mixed up in her café latte lifestyle awaited her.
Frantically she called Madame Boodwah to dissect the shituation, as it put a lot of pressure on a relationship that was only 6 months old. Should she stay and peruse this young love or should she head for the land of champagne and art?
Eventually the decision was made as the Hot Scott convinced her she was the one, and he had mapped out a future for them, that included running their own business together and raising a family. She decided to stay in the name of love and made the difficult phonecall to the Paris office.
Life carried on blissfully for the next 2 weeks until one night the Hot Scot came over dressed in his blue and green tartan kilt with a pale white face cowering at her door. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked guiding him to the couch.
‘I’m not sure how I feel about you anymore’ said the now Not Hot Scot.
Like you, Miss Doodwah’s jaw dropped.
Here she had just given up the career opportunity of a life time for the love of the Not Hot Scot and now he wasn’t sure how he felt about her!?!
Miss Doodwah called Madame Boodwah in tears, it was awful. Madame Boodwah wanted to castrate what little this spineless imbecile had under his blue and green tartan kilt.
Miss Doodwah’s head was spinning, the now Not Hot Scot had decided he was going to get back to her in 2 weeks to work out where it was all going. Miss Doodwah took the matter into her own hands and made the decision to end it her self because the Not Hot Scot was lacking testicular fortitude and was still unsure.
That night she made a call to Paris and fortunately the job was still on offer.
When she first moved back to Paris she still got texts from the Not Hot Scot with kisses and hugs but she soon realized it was because he was looking for someone to rub his ego and eventually stopped replying to him.
6 months later life in Paris was bliss and after settling back in and finding happiness again she attracted a new relationship into her life with a guy she had been friends with for years.
If there is one thing that Madame Boodwah admires about Miss Doodwah it is the way she handled the shituation and moved on from it with such grace. When I hear the happiness in her voice and emails I think that it was almost a divine intervention that it didn’t work out with the Not Hot Scot because if it hadn’t of happened would she be as happy as she is now? In ways I think not.
In the words of Chuck if some ‘fuck knuckle’ has given you massive amounts of grief and is unsure of how he feels about you dump the sucker and have faith that a good thing could be waiting for you on the horizon.