Bed man

I have long been meaning to write about Bed Man, I know there's loads of other stuff I've been meaning to write about as well, but Bed Man is probably the longest. Though I have no idea why I've not got round to it until now.

Anyway, here's the tale, oh lovely lovely Bed Man.
When I lived in my old house, at the other end of Stockton-On-Tees, there was a bed and furniture shop quite close by. You could just about see it, if you looked out of the window in the right way. The Bed shop also had a bus stop outside, and sometimes when me and my mam went to my grandads, we would get the bus from this very stop. Once or twice we would go at 9am, (ish) and Bed Man would be just arriving and taking up the shutters on the shop. He is very lovely, I don't recall the first time I saw him, or knew of him, I'm not sure if it was before the time we moved to that part of Stockton, or at the time. Either way, I soon developed a crush on him. Me having crushes on people isn't anything new or surprising, however the twist is this - he is quite old, I mean, not old by general standards but old at my standard anyway. I have no idea how old he is, I would estimate him at about 47. That's weird isn't it? Old enough to be my dad.

I once knew a girl who only went out with older guys, 47 would have been nothing new for her, but I always used to think how fucked up it was, to go out with these older guys. Anyway, that's not the point. What is the point? I don't know, but Bed Man, ahh, I don't know, I just fancy him like mad.
He's quite tall and thin, his hair is sort of grey, he wears glasses and a tweed jacket that I think has elbow patches, and brown shoes, and a shirt and tie. His hair used to be floppy, not really long, but just floppy and nice, but after a while he got it cut, which also was surprisingly nice. He just has a smart and somewhat dapper air about him. He just seems really smart all the time, smart and clean. Urgh he's beautiful.

(AND he's BED Man, he works in, possibly owns a bed shop. Bed being probably my favourite thing and place. He might by my soulmate!)

So back on track, where I used to live, I'd see him occasionally driving his strange old van around in and out of the shop. I was always excited when we went to my aunties cause the Bed shop is sort of on a corner, and on the way to my aunties we had to walk past the street where the shop backed out, where the funny van is parked. And I would always hope we'd see him.
Once, I was going to the train station with Laura, and we had to walk that way, and him and another guy were messing around there, taking a delivery from a big lorry. I can't remember if I smiled at him, I think I did but my memory fails me.
Anyway, I moved house from there, just over a year ago now.

The day we moved house, the moving van took all our stuff, and me and my mam walked here, to this house I am in right now. It was the last time (probably) I'd get to walk past the back of the store. And he was there, just stood outside, I don't remember if he was alone or with someone else, but they weren't busy, like he'd just came out for a break. So I thought to myself, "Fuck it, this is it, the last time I'm probably gonna see him, I'll smile at him". So I did, a proper smile, and made proper eye contact. He was lovely and smiled right back. My heart was a flutter, my cheeks stinging in only the way they can when you take a bit of a plunge like that, it felt like they were on fire. It was a good little moment. It was great in fact.
But a bit of a shame, that that was the day I was moving house, and I'd never really get to smile at him again. That smile moment, I always think would have been a great way to, I dunno really, smile at him more? Haha, you know what I mean though, maybe next times we seen each other after that could have led to saying Hello in passing.

Ack! Ok this is getting too serious now, lets try and bring it down yo. Hahah ahh. So I had seen him a few times since then. The weird van I keep mentioning, well its like the shop van, the delivery van, I have no idea what it is, its just like this vintage classic old-fashioned thing, its blue, and has little round windows at the back. Once I was walking home from town, and I seen him in it driving past just near where I live. Another time I was on my way to town and I seen him going past again. I would like to say he noticed me as he drove, like I noticed him as he drove past. But I'm not sure if he did or not, I think he might have but that's probably my mind playing tricks on me, or wishful thinking haha.

So, that's the Bed Man story. Or it was, until one day, one Wednesday a couple of months ago, I was walking down my street, coming home from the job centre one morning, I'm not sure what time it was exactly but it was in the 10am bracket, when I seen the van parked almost just outside my house.

My road is quite small and hidden away, opposite my house there is no other houses, just sheltered accommodation for old people. And almost right opposite my front door is the opening to the car park. The van was there, parked up right in the entrance. There was nobody in it, but I recognised it instantly. "wow" I thought, trying desperately to think of some excuse to waste time and have to stand on my doorstep. So I went inside, and spied out of the window. Nothing happened for a few minutes, so I decided to go upstairs and look out of my mams bedroom window for a better view. After a few more minutes Bed Man came out, and got in the van and drove off. But It doesn't end there!

Just as I was contemplating what the chances were of that happening, I went downstairs and for no real reason had another quick spy out of the downstairs bay window, just in time to see the van slow to a stop, stay there for a while, and then a little bit later Bed Man got out.
Turned out, the van had broke down, and was stuck outside the church at the end of my street.
If that wasn't my chance, I don't know what was.
It was like some sort of divine intervention, like something had stopped him getting out of my street, so I would get chance to somehow go out and strike up a conversation with him.

I just stood there slack jawed wondering what the hell was going on. I could see him wandering around the van, mooching and messing about with it, trying to get it to work again.
But what could I do, I couldn't very well saunter out and go up to him and start talking to him. I felt like I really should, like that very moment had been engineered especially for me. Maybe I should have. It didn't really occur to me to do that though, I mean it definitely did, and I was thinking "holy shit, what are the fucking chances, this is definitely my chance, I should do something". It was weird, if I was ever going to talk to him properly, this was certainly my moment, but I just didn't, it would have been just TOO weird of me to do that, and even thought it was amazing perfect time that I knew he was even in my street at all, I wasn't fighting back the urge to run out and talk to him. Yeah I probably should have, but I didn't have to restrain myself from doing it.

He stayed there for about 10 minutes, maybe a little less. Nothing really happened, nobody came to help him, he just messed about for a bit and got it working again, and drove off.

But I mean, was that whole thing amazing or is it just me? Usually at 10am I am either in bed, or getting ready to go out of the house. Either way, If I'd not been to the job centre that morning, I would have missed him because I was asleep, or missed him cause I was messing about brushing my teeth and getting ready. And of all the furniture places around, they chose his shop to get their furniture from. And he happened to be delivering to the place right opposite my house. And I happened to see it happen. And he happened to break down before he even got out of my road.

Shit, maybe I should have taken my chance!