The Virtues of a Toy Boy Taxi Driver!

At 41 years of age, you would have thought I would have been sensible enough not to get involved with a younger man, wouldn't you? I thought so too. We do the strangest things for the strangest reasons, and for me at that time in my life, I really didn't need a man, but a toyboy was out of the question.

It all began when I was chief bridesmaid to my best friend Stephen. Looking a million dollars in my dark green taffeta full length gown, white gypsafelia in my hair and a little make up to hide the cracks, I certainly looked a bobby dazzler. Gordon was Stephen's best man, at 6'4" he looked very dapper in his morning suit.

The wedding day arrived with a lot of excitement, girls in various stages of undress fighting over mirror space to make themselves beautiful. Gordons mum in the bath, with me standing rubbing the steam every so often from the bathroom mirror, chatting away trying to make each other feel comfortable, whilst the flowers had arrived downstairs.

You know the scene, all the hubble bubble of people pretending to know what thy are doing, and the bride in turmoil trying to find her sanity. The men went to the church first, followed by myself and the other bridesmaid, we stopped to be admired by waiting neighbours hoping to get a glance. I hobbled up the church steps, falling over my stilletoes, being more comfortable in wellies, and ripping the hem of my dress. Oh no disaster, what would I do? Like any sensible woman in her forties I ignored it and carried on. I took my place and awaited my bride whilst Gordon stood tall and calm keeping Stephen from running away. I know I took the odd glance over but really at nineteen years my junior I didn't have the time to spend with a man still wet behind the ears. Very unkind I know, but a busy job and active social life made me cranky sometimes.

The reception went along without a hitch, but then it was my turn. Taking Gordon by the hand following the bride and groom to the first dance, he whispered in my ear' I have two left feet you know' he certainly meant it as I had the bruises to show for it the next day.

I couldn't avoid Gordon at all he was the brides cousin and was at the stables where I kept my horses, every evening and weekends. To say he followed me about like a puppy is an understatement. But underneath all of this he was a gentle soul with a wierd sense of humour, but he made me laugh. I felt like I had known him years and was always comfortable in his company. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't love at first sight, more like a comfy pair of slippers to come home to. I felt safe with Gordon, the fact at 5' 4" I was a foot shorter than him helped.

The worst thing of all for me was hoping to be accepted by his family. His mum is a year younger than I am and that was daunting. The age difference didn't matter so much to us, and our friends and family soon accepted it. We are now just Net and Gordon to everyone who knows us.

That was twelve years ago now, and some people said it would never last but we are still going strong. Gordon is now a taxi driver, and I hardly ever see him. We are both a bit fatter and greyer and he is moody and I am cranky, but it still works, those virtues of a toy boy taxi driver. We are an odd couple, but hey who cares? We still love each other but to this day I can't tell you truthfully who deserves the medal the most, him or me?

The moral to my true life tale is, you only live once, life is like standing in a candy store, you take your pick, but be wise what you spend your money on.