Thursday, July 17, 2008

Shirley the Date

Rhys, my attractive younger male friend over at The Plastic Age just released a glimmer of golden comic media this morning that inspired me to reflect upon a previous date with a woman of sorts.

For starters, here's the comic:

There might be some sizing issues, so if you can't read it, go here.

The comic made me chuckle and remember a certain girl I dated back in 2003, let's call her Shirley because there aren't many girls called that anymore.

Shirley and I met on the internets as usual in this day and age, it was a period in my life where I gave up going to clubs to meet whores and I spent alot of my alone time playing warcraft and drinking. Which for some reason attracted certain "geeky" girls, no idea why but whatever.

And before I move on, I'm sure alot of you will think "playing warcraft alone and meeting girls online, NEEEEEEEEERD LOOOOOOOOSER" and for that I thank you, because you've never done anything like that ever in your life now haven't you? What are you doing reading a blog if I'm such a loser? Shouldn't you be at your friend Robbo's house beating your chest and watching porn?

Shirley seemed like an interesting girl, and by that I mean she talked to me for more than a week without getting annoyed at me, and we started talking on the phone and all that other junk internet couples do before meeting up, like sending select photos that show how attractive we might look in certain light and angles. And eventually we decided to meet up in town for coffee.

The day came and I showed up to nobody, which I was expecting so I brought my gameboy along and started playing Turrican. About 15 minutes later halfway through level 3 Shirley showed up and we talked, she looked nothing like her photos, but that didn't matter, she was a walking talking female who might have liked me at that point so I went with it.

20 minutes in to the coffee talking session we established the following things:

- She doesn't like anything to do with World War 2
- I like war

- She enjoys old Warner Brothers Cartoons that nobody enjoyed, like Freakazoid and Bonkers.
- I don't

- She thinks some local band whose name I forgot is the best, and the lead singer is hot.
- I don't care

- Did I mention that lead singer is hot? He really is, he went to my school you know, and he sings so well they're going to be huge, they've been around since like 1996.
- Then why is he limited to small pub gigs on a bimonthly basis?

In the end of the coffee drinking session (she drank 3, I had a coke), I was ready to go home when she asked if we could go shopping... shopping...

SHOPPING... the dread of any single male, why on Earth would this woman think it would be a good idea to take an unemployed uni student SHOPPING??? For starters I had no money, and the only shops around were girl clothing stores.

And you know the type of clothing stores I mean, the discos with clothes. With music so loud it serves as a deterrent to delinquents. But women are drawn to this flashy overpriced centres of crap like flies to... well... crap.

We went to about 4 of these things, Shirley holding my hand, which wasn't too bad at the time, but when I say "holding" it was more "dragging" me into the stores, I was forced to sit in the "husbands chair", the chair outside the change room where the man sits whilst his wife tries on 2 garments but takes 25 minutes, I found my place between a balding man in glasses fiddling on his mobile phone, and another fellow my age probably on a date too, his eyes pleading for an excuse to leave, constantly checking his watch in hope that his time to die was soon.

Shirley picked out some black pants, black dresses and black hats. I asked her jokingly if she'd decided to become goth on the walk over and she gave me a horrified look.

"If you must know, my aunty died last week and I'm looking for an outfit to wear to the funeral"

"Oh, I'm sorry" was my reply, inside I felt like a dick, outside I was still chuckling at the Goth remark.

"It's okay" she said to me, "we weren't that close anyway, I just want to wear something that will make me look good in front of my cousins"

"...wat"

"Is there anything wrong with looking good?"

"........ wat"

I didn't know what to say, this girl was using the death of her Aunty to serve as a stepping ground to buff up her rep with the relatives, she wanted to look the part of some kind of success, maybe it was because she lived in Mayfield and suffered from bogan denial I don't know, all I know is it was time for me to leave, NOW.

She took 3 articles of clothing into the change room, and I knew that gave me half an hour at least, so I called Rhys on my phone and organised a plan.

The plan was to get him to ring in 10 minutes and pretend he was my mother, with some kind of urgent news that took me away from the scene of this slow death. Rhys, in his typical awkward early 2000's fashion, didn't understand what I meant and I forgive him for that as it wasn't the best plan in the world. So I fumbled with the texting functionality of my phone and sent myself a text from my mother.

The text went as follows:

To: Tom
from: Tom
Message: gkaaf11,t

When I got it 20 seconds later I told her I had to go, my mum needs me to pick her up from the car repair center and her lift hasn't shown up. But of course when it came out of my mouth it was more along the lines of "Hey I gotta.... go.... mum... um my mum yeah.. she needs a lift from the car.... place, no lift k?"

Shirley was slightly confused but understand my ramblings, which in hindsight I realise is one of the great skills needed for a wife. She was disappointed but understood, and told me how much fun she had today despite my stupid joke about Goths. I agreed with her, and told her we should go out again soon, which was a blatant lie.

As I was leaving she ran to me and asked for my phone number, which not being a girl or gay male I didn't know off the top of my head, and didn't know how to retrieve apart from reading the number off the piece of paper somewhere in my house, or calling someone on my phone and asking what it is. Shirley said "that's okay I know how to get the number, can I have your phone for a second".

Before I could say anything she took the phone from my hand and looked at it, the screen showed the message from my mother

To: Tom
from: Tom
Message: gkaaf11,t

Shirley looked at me, gave me my phone, turned around, and walked back into the store.

I felt really bad, but then I remembered the Goth joke I made earlier and chuckled.. a bit too loudly though, as she turned around.

I remember the last words she said to me

"Piss Off Tim"

2 comments:

Ruroremy said...

I liked Freakazoid...

Women talking about hot lead singers from small local bands is a definite turn off. I used to live with a guitarist from a small local band (though they occasionally tour Europe these days, but still), so I know what that's like, ugh...

The goth joke was decent, I probably would have made it too.

Shaun said...

i lold

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