Address book RIP!!!
I.
Last weekend this girl I was after turned me down for maybe the second, third time. I flipped shut the mobile then bowed down my head for a minute or so.
When I was 19 years old, getting turned down by a girl would knock me off my feet for what, a couple of months? Now all it takes me it´s like 30 seconds to recover, and another 30 seconds to think of a way out:
I flipped the phone open and went for the address book: It took me two hours to start burning my elbows and knees and other parts of my anatomy against the carpet back at my place, which is conveniently located near a subway station (if you´re ever to understand the Uncle Charlie logistics of it). I mean two hours, think about it willya! That freaking address book sure means business!!
II.
This weekend that very same girl turned me down for the fourth, fifth time and what would Uncle Charlie do? I went for the address book not an eyeblink later, once over, once again, but this time only to find out I´d spent my last shot last weekend.
Then I despaired.
My address book has been rendered useless, which means come every Saturday I´m back to basics, swinging from up high with no safety net, no one to call to keep me company when either the nights get cold or the bed gets hot, or both.
Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
III.
Of course there´s always plan C... or rather, plan D, because I ended up calling the guys and we went to this real cool restaurant and drank two bottles of champagne and this Japanese lady in her mid-40s was sitting by the table next to hours and she totally looked me over. “Dude, that woman just totally looked you over,” I was told. But she was kind of too fat, and to be quite honest with you I´m utterly unable to flirt while eating because I eat like a pig, it´s a fact, too fast and wolfing everything like a refugee from Darfur.
The guys gave me a ride to halfway to my place, then I sort of chose to go on foot to clear my head, etc, and stopped by the gas station and bought myself an ice-cream cone: It was close to midnight and the air was starting to get cold enough to sleep with a blanket. I zipped up my jacket and took another bite off the ice-cream, and headed home alone, with a spent address book.
Last weekend this girl I was after turned me down for maybe the second, third time. I flipped shut the mobile then bowed down my head for a minute or so.
When I was 19 years old, getting turned down by a girl would knock me off my feet for what, a couple of months? Now all it takes me it´s like 30 seconds to recover, and another 30 seconds to think of a way out:
I flipped the phone open and went for the address book: It took me two hours to start burning my elbows and knees and other parts of my anatomy against the carpet back at my place, which is conveniently located near a subway station (if you´re ever to understand the Uncle Charlie logistics of it). I mean two hours, think about it willya! That freaking address book sure means business!!
II.
This weekend that very same girl turned me down for the fourth, fifth time and what would Uncle Charlie do? I went for the address book not an eyeblink later, once over, once again, but this time only to find out I´d spent my last shot last weekend.
Then I despaired.
My address book has been rendered useless, which means come every Saturday I´m back to basics, swinging from up high with no safety net, no one to call to keep me company when either the nights get cold or the bed gets hot, or both.
Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
III.
Of course there´s always plan C... or rather, plan D, because I ended up calling the guys and we went to this real cool restaurant and drank two bottles of champagne and this Japanese lady in her mid-40s was sitting by the table next to hours and she totally looked me over. “Dude, that woman just totally looked you over,” I was told. But she was kind of too fat, and to be quite honest with you I´m utterly unable to flirt while eating because I eat like a pig, it´s a fact, too fast and wolfing everything like a refugee from Darfur.
The guys gave me a ride to halfway to my place, then I sort of chose to go on foot to clear my head, etc, and stopped by the gas station and bought myself an ice-cream cone: It was close to midnight and the air was starting to get cold enough to sleep with a blanket. I zipped up my jacket and took another bite off the ice-cream, and headed home alone, with a spent address book.
posted by 186282mps at 10:02 PM
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