Tuesday, 18 January 2011

You know what they call a Quarter Pounder with cheese in France?

I don't believe in horoscopes, destiny, palm reading or any other stupid Gypsy shit. That said, I don't believe in myself either as there's a chance I've got it all wrong: God might exist, smoking might actually cause lung cancer and Waterworld might be a masterpiece.

Even you, Kev.
This is why, when on Halloween destiny seemed to pull my hair and shout in my ear to grab my attention, I decided to give it a chance. I was dressed as Vince Vega from Pulp Fiction, with my friend dressed as Mia Wallace. In the queue outside the club, I seem to remember laughing at another girl dressed as Mia in a fat suit but she mistook my mockery for flirtation and smiled back. I realised then that this could be a sign and that I should pursue it, but given that I'm a shallow bastard, I spent all my money on drinks before I could stomach making my way over to her.

I don't remember what happened next but all of a sudden my friends had gone and I was sitting on a sofa with a plump Mia Wallace on my lap biting my face. Maybe she was hungry, I don't know, but it hurt and made my lips red like Lindsay Lohan's asshole. I realised then that the night was going to end badly if I didn't leave very quickly, so I told her I had to leave. She asked for my number but I told her I didn't know it and pretended to be too drunk to use my phone (not hard, as I pretty much was). However, I gave her my (real) name, assuming nothing would come of it.

The next day, I had a facebook message from the girl. I looked at her pictures and felt deeply disappointed in myself and destiny as a concept. In a way, I was right. Fuck Waterworld. The only good bit in the film is when that bitch and her daughter give Kevin Costner lip and he shaves their heads as punishment. No arguing, no warning, just straight for the barber scissors. I like his style.

The message unsurprisingly raised the possibility of us meeting up for dinner in London, a city in which neither of us lived and an activity I would rather sow up my anus and eat a kilo of Fibre Bran than partake in. I thought about my options:

1) Suicide
The final solution was a shade too far. While it nailed the point home and printing her email as a suicide note would have been a laugh, I felt I still had unfinished business.


2) Pretending to be gay
Unfortunately, I'd been bafflingly eager the night before. In  a way, it was professionalism and dedication to the concept of destiny, much like straight guys participating in gay porn. They get paid more so they guzzle down the viagra, pretend they're bumming a woman and hope to God their closeted fathers won't stumble across "Three's cum-pany".


3) "Hi. I feel like an asshole saying this after everything, but on Satuday I was on a break from my girlfriend. Today we decided to give things another chance and I really think that's the best plan. I don't think it's a good idea to meet up soon. You're very pretty but I want to make things work this time. Sorry."
Perfect.

13 comments:

  1. Yeah don't bring fatties into youyr life. They're really good at guilting you into doing something once you show weakness. Stay strong bud

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  2. Ahaha oh dude that's not cool. NO to fat chicks!

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  3. Your opening paragraph was seriously awesome bro!

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  4. Very nice story, a pleasure to read.

    Also, it was kind of you not to say something really mean to the girl. You have my respect.

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  5. Waterworld was THE BOMB. Kidding. Nice post

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  6. Waterworld can only be a masterpiece on extreme opposites day.

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  7. You know what you're talking about
    You have my utmost respect.
    Following.

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  8. Haha I remember this. Classic. xxx

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