Dear Bebe
I live in a small village. I’m single, successful and happy with my life. But every now and then I have, well, needs. A local plumber, let’s call him Sid, was clearing some gunk from my u-bend, and one thing led to another, and we had sex in my utility room. Well, sort of, given the space limitations. The problem is I know he’s married and sometimes bump into him in our local. You see everyone in the village in there, given it’s pretty much the only place you can hang out. Other than the bus shelter. I’m sure you can imagine what village life is like. I don’t think anyone knows (yet, anyway), but I feel embarrassed about seeing him. What should I do?
Yours
Lucy
Well, well Lucy.
You have been recreating your own 70s porn haven’t you? How creative. And I applaud you for it. It’s not that easy to have a quickie with a man in overalls, as I’ve discovered to my cost.
As a general rule in life, I try to avoid shagging people I’m employing to fix my house and home (or car). They never do as good a job again, and it makes it awkward if you need to challenge any extras listed on their bill. Shag next door’s electrician if you must, but not if he (or she) is local and/or married.
Which leads to my key recommendation, which is that you seek your randy handymen from further afield. And indeed further than the next field. A couple of villages away, but ideally, from the next county. I’m all for cheap, meaningless sex. But villages are petri dishes of gossip, deviancy and vicious tittle-tattle, as anyone who listens to The Archers will know.
In the meantime, you need to keep going with everyday life as you normally would. Face it out. This will pass. It’s hardly in Sid’s interest to spread the word is it? But if you do it again, someone will suspect and your life will become hell. Mrs Plumber will be round with a grudge and a massive wrench and it won’t end well for you or your pipework.
Good luck darling
xx
askbebe 